Psychotic Breakout
by Numpty
Summary: An old enemy returns to exact revenge on Jesse. Will Steve and Jesse resolve their problems? STORY COMPLETE. Thanks for all your reviews:)
1. Murder In Mind

Psychotic Break-out  
  
I'm Back! This fanfic takes place some time after the episode: "Rescue Me" so if you haven't seen it, then you may not understand parts of the story. This is mainly a Jesse fic, and there's plenty of him, so please enjoy!!  
  
All Disclaimers Apply  
  
Chapter 1: Murder in Mind  
  
Pressing her lips against his she pushed him backwards onto the white linen bed. They tasted salty, but more importantly, they tasted of freedom. Running her hands through his soft, mussed up locks gave her a thrill. It wouldn't be long now, he was completely under her control. The chemistry between them was undeniable; for him, perhaps, but she only needed him for one thing. She gripped the bedcovers tightly in her fist as he deepened the kiss. She'd missed all of this so much, and now it felt like nectar in her veins.  
  
She closed her eyes as he kissed her neck slowly, breathing sharply to let him know that she was enjoying it. She let him carry on for a few moments before giving him a gentle shove to create some distance between them. The glare of the harsh fluorescent lighting reminded him gradually of his surroundings, and he sat back, a little embarrassed at his animal instincts.  
  
The young woman smiled at him, her eyes alive. He could sense something intangible behind them; was it love? He hoped it was, for every particle of his being was dying to be loved by her. To him, she was beautiful; the long dark, tousled and wavy hair; the crystal eyes; the gentle flush on her soft cheeks. . .he was smitten all right.  
  
She didn't belong here, in this institution; hidden away, her beauty unappreciated. If it wasn't for some upstart doctor who couldn't handle her adoration. . .and created some crackpot story about her being a psycho. . . But they had a plan, and it had almost come to fruition.  
  
The silence of the empty room was broken only by the sounds of heavy breathing. The woman glanced round her confinement, almost savouring it; soon she would no longer be imprisoned here. . .soon. The whitewash walls reflected the severe lighting from the grey ceiling, giving the room an almost celestial glow; although this room was far from heavenly. It had come to exist as her personal hell.  
  
"Sam?" she whispered softly, he eyes examining his spotless pale blue uniform, looking for any clue that he done as asked. "Do you have it?"  
  
"Here" he answered proudly, bringing out a female nurse's uniform. Her face looked strangely sinister as she examined the garment. Sam told himself that he was imagining it, and that what he was really seeing, was pleasure. He saw her clasp the uniform to her chest as if it were the elixir of life, or some miracle cure for a debilitating disease. It gave him an enriching feeling of power, knowing that he had provided this.  
  
The young woman stepped off the bed and gave him a heart-warming smile. "Sam, turn around! I have to change!" she laughed easily, a new lease of life within her.  
  
Sam turned round, fighting the urge to watch her, and contented himself with imagining the sight rather than viewing it. A comfortable feeling entering his body.  
  
He did not here her pad barefooted up behind him, eyes contaminated with evil intent, and only had time to gasp in shock and agony as she rammed the dinner knife into the back of his neck. Not quite as smoothly as she had hoped, but one had to do one's best with what was provided, and a dinner knife had been all that was available.  
  
She stood and watched his breathing slow, a calm smile on her face. Phase one: completed.  
  
* * * *  
  
Doctor Jesse Travis picked his way across Community General hospital reception, his attention absorbed in checking out the particulars of a patient's medical chart. Bumping into several nurses, he smiled apologetically and lay the chart down on the reception desk. Pausing for a well-earned breather, he reached for a pen and began to jot down some notes on his patient. Scratching his head, he pulled aside a passing nurse.  
  
"I want to arrange an Endoscopic ultrasonography for Edwina Mitchell, I suspect she has Chronic Pancreatitis" He said, handing the middle-aged woman the chart.  
  
"Right Doctor Travis, I'll check with the gastroenterologist" answered the nurse brusquely as she hurried off.  
  
Jesse checked his watch, and was about to take a coffee break when Steve Sloane sauntered up behind him. "Hey Jess" Jesse spun round and smiled when he saw the figure of his best friend and surrogate brother. He and Steve had been through a lot together, and although they were not related, Jesse thought of Steve as family.  
  
"Hey hot-shot! How's the detecting going?" Jesse joked, with a twinkle in his eye.  
  
"Ugh! Not so great, came to tap my father for some advice. Know where he is?" Steve answered, looking bored.  
  
"Yeah, he's performing for the paediatric ward. You know, the old magic tricks performed whilst roller-skating job!" Jesse chuckled.  
  
"Yeah, do I ever!" Steve laughed along with him, "He never seems to get tired of it, it's so embarrassing!"  
  
The two friends headed down the corridor towards the paediatric unit, sharing a smile as a particularly loud chorus of laughter could be heard omitting from within. "They sound happy!" Steve commented with more than just a hint of sarcasm.  
  
Steve and Jesse were just about to enter, when the shrill ring of Steve's mobile phone interrupted their movements. Steve looked mildly irritated as he pulled it out of his jacket pocket. "Probably just Cheryl telling me that those finger print results are in. . .Sloane here" He answered it briskly. "Yeah. . .mental institution! Yeah, I'll be right there"  
  
Jesse looked at him inquisitively as he signed off and returned his phone to it's compartment. "An attendant at LA Special Secure Institution has just been found dead in one of the rooms, and there's no sign of the patient. Cheryl wouldn't tell me over the phone, but it looks like someone we might recognise"  
  
"Well who could it possibly be?" Jesse asked, perplexed.  
  
"I don't know" Steve answered, "but I'm sure I'm about to find out!"  
  
To Be Continued. . . 


	2. Crime Scene Investigation

Psychotic Break-out  
  
Thanks everyone for reviewing the first chapter! You have been very generous. I've been really ill recently so it's meant that this chapter has taken longer to write than I had first anticipated.  
  
There are a few things that need clearing up before we continue: firstly, this story bares no relation to any other story I have posted on this site. Secondly, a few people have expressed a desire for brief a recap of the episode Rescue Me so:  
  
Jesse rescues a woman from a car crash, and she falls in "love" with him and uses him to get rid of her previous lover. But when she sees that Jesse is in love with Susan, she tries to get rid of him by getting him arrested for murder using the "help" of the arresting officer. In the end Mark figures it out and Chloe gets shipped off to a mental hospital.  
  
I hope that was a help!!  
  
All Disclaimers Apply  
  
Chapter 2 : Crime Scene Investigation  
  
Chloe Marsden breathed cool, fresh air into her lungs. The ecstasy which it induced was electrifying; it was like being reborn. The sea breeze whipped her newly dyed-blonde hair around her head, so that the strands looked like golden snakes wriggling from her scalp. She felt the damp sand beneath her toes, and curled them with pleasure.  
  
Standing on the Malibu beach felt so uplifting; just being away from that hellhole was wonderful. She could still remember that clinical stench, those patronising psychologists, being injected with tranquillisers. . .But all that existed for her now was freedom, and the pleasure in seeing that depraved little cretin suffer. Oh, the things she had planned made her shiver in excitement! But she must be careful this time; Mark Sloan must not figure it out. She could see his house from where she now stood; the image burned her soul, and she vowed that he too, would suffer.  
  
Wrapping her coat around her more tightly as the wind seeped through her skin, she turned slowly to take cover. She would have to go into hiding, soon her face would be all over Los Angeles, and no way was she going back. Not There. A shadow passed over her face.  
  
The Beach was deserted and barren, and the cool droplets of fresh rain began to drop gently from the rapidly darkening sky; there would be a storm tonight.  
  
* * * *  
  
Rain! Steve Sloan thought demurely as he headed towards the LA Special Secure Institution. Typical! He reached forward to turn on the windscreen wipers as the tiny droplets turned into large sheets cascading down upon the car. He had to watch his driving as the roads became slippery and dangerous; the institution was situated at the top of a steep, and winding country road, where torrents of rain water spurted down the sides.  
  
It wasn't long before he arrived at the entrance to a formidable looking building set against an inspiring mountainous background. The walls of the stone built institution were a dank and depressing grey, and being miles out of the LA urban sprawl, Steve failed to see how anyone could escape from here. . .But someone had, and had killed another in the process. Steve had been turning the idea over and over inside his head but he could not think of anyone who may have been linked to himself, his father, Jesse or Amanda. He had been part of many cases as a Lieutenant, many of which his father and his friends had assisted with.  
  
He parked his car beside his partner Cheryl Banks' car in the parking lot. As he stepped out, he noticed Cheryl herself appearing at the top of the corporeal stone front entrance. "Steve! Glad you could you could make it! Forensics will be arriving in a few minutes" She called to him with a smirk on her face and her arms crossed in front of her chest. She had the distinct air of knowing some key piece of information that Steve didn't, and by the looks of things, she was deeply enjoying the power it gave her.  
  
"You gonna tell me what this is about?" Steve enquired, trying to sound off-hand, as if he hadn't been racing his brains constantly on the drive over. He trotted eagerly up the steps to meet her.  
  
"You mean you haven't figured it out yet? I would have thought it was glaringly obvious! We're at a mental institution, you and your father haven't sent that many crooks here! Come on Sloan!" Cheryl looked incredulous.  
  
Steve looked a little sheepish as he gave his brain a final search. "Well, the only person I really remember was Chloe Marsden, but she wasn't even sent here!"  
  
"No, but she was moved here! Two years into her sentence they transferred her because she was causing problems. And yes, this is all about her. She murdered her attending nurse and escaped from her room last night. Let's go and check out her room before forensics gets here"  
  
Cheryl turned and headed inside the building. Steve followed aimlessly, still trying to get his head around the fact that Chloe Marsden had escaped. What would this mean?  
  
Steve glanced round the bare walls as the walked. They were so hopelessly barren, it was no wonder that people wanted to escape. Corridor after corridor they passed through; the place was like a labyrinth. Intermittently, moans could be heard from the doors they passed; so different to the chorus of laughter that had erupted from the wards of Community General. The doors were steel enforced, and heavily bolted; it made sense that the only way to escape would be through the attendants. Steve felt as if he was going mad just being inside the place, there was nothing to focus on, it felt like there was no light at the end of the tunnel. If Chloe Marsden had been unbalanced when she came here, by now she was probably psychotic. He dreaded telling Jesse. . .  
  
After a long, long silence "Well, here we are" Cheryl said unnecessarily, as the room was clearly marked out with yellow crime scene tape. Both detectives stepped under the tape and took a preliminary sweep round the room with their eyes. Not that there was much to see other that the body of a man dressed in a crisp, white attendant's uniform, slumped on the bed with a dinner knife sticking brazenly out of his neck.  
  
"The victim's name is Samuel Marsh, he's worked as an attending nurse here for five years" Cheryl informed him.  
  
"I don't think we need Amanda to tell us how this man died" Steve said wryly as he stared at the man. "Chloe Marsden obviously came at him from behind, but, why did he have his back to her. He was an attendant, surely they know that the patients can be dangerous, and that they shouldn't let their guard down"  
  
Cheryl looked thoughtful for a moment, "He must have trusted her"  
  
"Does that suggest a relationship between them? Maybe they were lovers! We need to ask forensics to find traces of hair on his uniform or neck, and anything else suspicious"  
  
"But the question remains, how did she leave the building? Any of the nurses would have noticed a patient roaming around the corridors. Also, how did she manage to smuggle that knife back to her room?"  
  
"We need to question the staff" Steve said grimly.  
  
Just then the forensics team arrived, greeted the two detectives and began working. Steve and Cheryl glanced at each other, donned their latex gloves, and set to work alongside the forensics team.  
  
"I think I know why she wasn't discovered" Steve announced after a while, pulling a discarded hospital gown out from under the bed triumphantly. "I think it's safe to assume she was disguised when she left this room"  
  
To Be Continued. . . 


	3. Touching Evil

Psychotic Break-out 

Hi everyone! Thanks for all your kind reviews! Won't be able to update for a while as I'm leaving the country! Heading to the USA on holiday in a couple of days, so this is all you get for the moment! Hope you enjoy. . .

All Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 3: Touching Evil

__

Jesse wrenched the steering wheel of his convertible hard as he raced to Chloe's aid; she had sounded desperate when she called, hysterical even. Richard was there! He was attacking her! He could be killing her right there and then! Jesse had_ to get there on time! He was a doctor, he couldn't let her die!_

The tyres screeched piercingly as he sped towards her house; Richard's car was parked domineeringly outside. Jesse had barely brought the car to a halt before he was out the door and sprinting towards the front door of Chloe's house. A crashing sound broadcast from within, followed by a woman's scream. Chloe's scream. Everything became more urgent as Jesse shoved open the front door and looked around him for the source of the noise. 

The sight that met his eyes made him convulse with anger. Chloe was grappling with Richard, his hands clenched around her throat. Her eyes met his as she saw him enter; they were brimming with terror. Jesse could stand it no longer; he ran up to Richard and pulled him away. Richard's answer was to floor Jesse with a blinding punch to the head.

Before he knew it, Jesse was on the floor, seeing stars, then his mind cleared and he frantically began searching for a weapon. His hand closed around a sword from one of Chloe's ridiculous costumes. The cold metal in his hands, Jesse stood slowly, his eyes fixed on Richard Lock as he crushed Chloe's oesophagus. The man turned round as Jesse approached, clocked the sword in his grasp then took a menacing step towards him. Chloe seized her chance and picked up a wooden prop from her display, she swung it at the Richard's head. The startling blow pushed him forward and impaled him on Jesse's waiting sword. Jesse caught the man in shocked reflex as the sword drove itself into his abdomen, bringing from his lips a guttural grunt of pain and surprise as the man died in Jesse's arms. 

"Ugh!" Jesse grunted in surprise as he flinched awake. It was dark, his senses told him as his eyes opened slowly and he began to shake off the effects of sleep. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to erase the knowledge of his dream. Only it hadn't been a dream, it had been a memory; one he had tried to forget when Chloe Marsden had been admitted to a mental institution years ago. He'd tried to put it all behind him.

He'd thought that was the end of it; but when Steve had told him the news last night. . .She was out! She was really out! Fear pricked at the edges of his subconscious, but he shook his head to rid himself of the feeling. What could she possibly do? He told himself unconvincingly, and, as Steve had said the previous night, she would probably get the hell out of LA rather than waste time with him. He knew Steve was just trying to reassure him, and he appreciated it, but that didn't necessarily mean he believed it, no matter how many times he told himself that he did.

He checked the clock by his bed, it read 7.30 am. Two hours before his next shift. He was unlikely to get any more sleep, so he decided to just get up and go for a jog. Pushing himself drowsily off the bed, he padded over to the window to let some light into the room. The view from his window was a dreary one; last night's rain still hadn't cleared up, the sky was grey and the rain was dripping down the window pane and onto the ledge, making little spider webs across his line of vision. "So much for a jog" Jesse muttered to himself.

He dressed slowly and made his way through to his living room and kitchen area. He glanced up at his front door as he went in, it was ajar! "What?" Jesse muttered as he checked around the living room, a wave of panic washed over him. Had someone been here? Were they still here now? As he looked at the coffee table his face darkened; on the surface lay a leather bound book of mythical creatures. He didn't own anything of the sort; it could only mean one thing. Chloe had been very into all that mythical crap, even telling him one time that he looked like – what was it? – a Varseuvian Windrunner! This had to be her doing!

In a split second he had it in his hands and was examining it all over. There seemed to be a bookmark in one of the pages. He opened it slowly, afraid of what he might find.

A piece of folded up paper marked the page headed "The Devil". A small illustration of a red, horned beast with a long pointed tail was presented, along with a small explanation and various myths and legends. But Jesse noticed none of this, his attention focused on the paper bookmark. A sinking feeling entered Jesse's stomach as he opened up the paper. A roughly drawn picture of a sleeping Jesse Travis met his eyes. She had been in his room! While he was asleep! Jesse felt chilled to the bone; she could have done anything to him while she was there! Written below the image in a crude scrawl were the words: "You will get what's coming to you, I will have my revenge"

So absorbed was he in the book he was holding, he did not hear the creak made by the woman creeping slowly up behind him. She raised the two-by-four up above her head, with a malicious self-satisfied smile on her face, then brought it down upon Jesse's unprotected head. He slumped to the ground instantly, book and paper falling from his grasp. 

Chloe slipped on some latex gloves, tied her hair back in a hairnet and stepped quickly over to where one of Jesse's tall potted plants stood. She gave it a hard shove, sending it flying towards the carpet, where it ultimately landed with a resounding thump. The tip of the plant ended roughly where the sofa began, so Chloe lifted Jesse's surprisingly heavy body and dragged it towards the fallen plant. 

The angle at which the two now lay made it appear, and very realistically so, that the plant had fallen and knocked Jesse unconscious. Chloe stood for a moment to examine her handiwork. "Phase Two: completed" Chloe muttered happily to herself as she stepped lightly over Jesse's fallen body picking up the book and drawing as she went. It wouldn't do to leave any evidence. 

"I'll be seeing you soon" She blew him a kiss as she tiptoed out the door and closed it softly behind her.

To Be Continued. . .


	4. Friends

Psychotic Break-out

Hey people! Back from the states, had a great time! Sorry I kept you all waiting. On a depressing note, back to school (crap!) but hopefully I'll be able to keep up with my writing duties! Thanks all for your kind reviews, even the people that shouted at me, you know who you are! Hope you won't have anything to shout at when you read this chapter! Enjoy!

All Disclaimers apply

Chapter 4: Friends

In the quiet Community General Doctor's lounge, three friends were having a heated discussion. Steve Sloan paced the small room as his father spoke and Amanda Bentley was trying to reassure him, although the words she used seemed empty and pointless.

"All I know is he hasn't called" Mark sighed, his brow furrowing.

"He could have just slept in!" Amanda persisted for what seemed like the millionth time.

"I keep telling you that Jesse just doesn't sleep in!" Steve was gravely worried for his friend, he ran a shaking hand through his hair as he spoke. "What if she's got to him!"

"We don't know that son!" Mark tried to calm down his son, "It hasn't been that long, I think we should wait before we jump to conclusions. If he doesn't phone within the next hour then we can do something, okay?"

"Okay Dad" Steve sighed in resignation, but he couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was wrong. _If Chloe's hurt him, I swear I'll. . ._

Amanda could practically see the steam blowing out of Steve's ears as his face grew redder and redder. She stood slowly and placed an arm on his shoulder to calm him down. "He'll be okay Steve"

"He has to be" Steve sighed.

* * * *

Jesse moaned as he woke up. A dull throbbing ache plagued his brain as he fought to push himself upright. He was on the floor of his living room! Groggily he heaved himself up and then promptly collapsed onto his couch, breathing rapidly at the effort it had taken him. When the room had stopped spinning, he raised a surprisingly steady hand to examine the back of his head; a raised bump and a sticky substance met his probing fingers. He took his hand away and examined the wetness: blood.

His eyes readjusted, and he noticed the fallen pot plant, it's soil contents spilled unceremoniously onto the carpet. He frowned, trying to remember what happened.

__

A book! He could see it in his mind's eye! Mythical creatures. . .The Devil. . . A drawing of him! Asleep! Chloe Marsden had been in his apartment. An open door. . .the door to his apartment. . .

He glanced up at the door, it was shut. He glanced around for the book and the paper, but they were nowhere to be found. He was certain they'd been there, or was he? He looked again at the fallen pot plant, _could it be?_ _Could it be that the plant had knocked him unconscious?_ He'd been so sure about Chloe Marsden. All he remembered was being hit from behind, but realistically it could have been the plant. _Am I going mad? Maybe I just dreamt it?_

He got up slowly, well aware that the room was tilting at an awkward angle, stumbled over to the freezer and brought out a packet of ice. It was probably too late to stop the swelling, but he might as well try. 

He winced as the cold penetrated the fleshy lump, but he held it there for a few minutes anyway. The time on his kitchen clock caught the corner of his eye, and he dropped the ice pack from his hand in surprise. He was two hours late for his shift at the hospital! "Oh crap!" He muttered under his breath. Not only was he late, but he knew that his friends would be worried about him.

Reaching for the phone, he noticed his movements were slow and sluggish; there was no way he could drive, and besides he was almost certain he had a concussion, he'd be no use to his patients in this state. The room began to spin again as Jesse slowly dialled the number of the hospital.

The voice on the other end sounded muffled, "Community General Hospital reception, how can I help you?" 

"This is Doctor Travis, I, uh, I need to speak to, uh, Doctor Mark Sloan"

* * * *

"Doctor Mark Sloan, Line 2. Doctor Mark Sloan, Line 2" The call rang out over the hospital tannoy system. Mark stole a meaningful glance at Amanda and Steve as he hurried out of the doctor's lounge. They were all silently hoping it would be good news.

Mark's expression was taut with nervous anticipation as he reached the reception and picked up the phone. "Mark Sloan" he said.

"Mark? It's Jesse" Came the reply, he sounded agitated, and his words were a little slurred, as though he was on drugs.

Mark could feel the warm relief flow through his body. He let out the breath he had unconsciously been holding. His friend was okay! But what could possibly have happened?

"Jesse are you alright? When you didn't turn up for your shift this morning we-" Mark's fears all tumbled out of his mouth in a rush, but Jesse stopped him before he could get into full flood. 

"Mark I'm fine!" Jesse reassured him, but Mark thought he sounded a little strained. "I just. . .got a little bump on the head is all. It's nothing"

__

Aha! Mark thought, _Now we're at the root of the problem! _ "Jesse did you black out? You may have a concussion, let me come over and check you out"

"I'm _fine!_" Jesse snapped, "Okay Mark? I'm _fine_, I don't need to be fussed over. It's just a small concussion, and I _am_ a doctor" Jesse sounded as if he was reassuring himself more than he was Mark.

But Mark wasn't finished yet; he was following a train of thought "Jesse how did you bump your head?" He asked innocently.

Silence. Jesse contemplated his answer.

"Well I uh, my plant pot, you know uh, the big one. . .it sorta fell on my head" he finished lamely.

__

The plant pot? Was that the best he could come up with?

"Jesse do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? How exactly did it fall on your head? How exactly could it fall on your head?" _Without being pushed! _Mark was fairly sure he didn't have to voice that sentence aloud to get his message across.

"Well, I kinda don't remember that part. . ." Jesse sounded uncomfortable, and Mark knew he was holding back, but he knew Jesse well enough to know that now was not the time to push him for answers.

"Are you _sure_ you're okay?" Mark asked a final time to try and convince him.

"Yes Mark! I'll get some rest today, and I'll be in tomorrow bright and early"

Mark said goodbye and hung up the phone with a puzzled face. _What was Jesse hiding?_

He turned round and discovered Steve and Amanda hovering behind him furtively. Both had quizzical looks on their faces.

"That was Jesse" Mark announced.

"Well _Duh!_" Amanda said in a sarcastic, impatient tone. "What did he say?" She asked quickly, her eyes demanding an answer.

"I couldn't get much out of him but it seems he _bumped his head_, or rather the plant pot _knocked him out_" Mark repeated the general gist of his conversation with Jesse. "He sounded like he was holding something back, he was very agitated"

Steve looked suspicious, "What if it had something to do with Chloe?" He voiced all of their thoughts.

"But then surely he would tell us?" Amanda asked, more than a little worried for her friend.

"It could all be very innocent!" Mark commented, "Maybe the plant really did fall on his head!"

"You're kidding right?" Steve choked back a laugh even though he was concerned for his surrogate brother. "I'll go round and see him later"

* * * *

Jesse stumbled over to the couch in his living room and collapsed onto the couch. It was frightening just how much the phone call had taken out of him; it had taken all of his strength just to sound normal and unconcerned. His breath came in short sharp gasps and his head throbbed in time to the beating of his heart as he lay half on half off the couch.

For some reason he hadn't been able to tell Mark about the book. Could it be because he didn't even know if it was real, or his imagination? Or was it because he desperately wanted to believe that Chloe Marsden was gone? Part of him suspected also that he didn't want his friends to worry about him; the fiercely independent streak that told him he could handle this by himself, without involving or endangering them.

__

Did Mark buy it though? Jesse asked himself, _he sounded sceptical. . ._

Jesse pushed himself slowly up from the sofa when he had rested enough, then he padded slowly and carefully through to his bathroom and took some aspirin out of his medicine cabinet. He downed a couple of pills with a glass of cold water before making his unstable way through to his bedroom.

__

Aspirin's sure working fast! Jesse thought to himself as he crawled into bed, his arms and legs heavy like lead.

It wasn't long before he was out like a light.

To Be Continued. . .

Please review!! Please!


	5. ER

Hey everyone! Again thanks for the reviews, always welcome and very much appreciated! Hope you'll find plenty to review about this time! Sorry, it's a little later than I'd planned, but Higher homework sort of gets in the way! Anyway, hope you enjoy…

All Disclaimers Apply

Psychotic Break-out 

Chapter 5: ER

Steve Sloan rapped his knuckles firmly and loudly on the door of his best friend's apartment. 

He waited for a few moments, listening for noises from within - the give-away noises that someone was coming to answer the door. Instead, he heard nothing; the apartment was stone silent. 

Steve's first thought was that something was wrong. His heart rate quickened and he rapped harder on the door, panic sweeping in nauseous waves through his veins. "Jesse!" He called through the door. _What if something's really wrong here? What if she's got to him? What if hitting his head like that's given him heart failure or something? _The questions were running through his mind a mile a minute, each one more terrifying than the next.

"Jesse?" He called again, except louder and more urgent. _What if he's just asleep? _Steve's rational side kicked in and he stopped pounding for a moment to think. _What if he's just resting and I'm making all this noise for no reason? _But Steve discounted this thought almost as soon as it entered his head. He stood back for a moment, straining his ears for any sound. _Be reasonable Sloan! _Again his rational side started to protest, _There isn't even any sign of forced entry! _Jesse would just be waking up and coming to open the door…or he was lying dead or seriously injured while Steve stood pondering outside his door - 

__

That's it! Steve had had enough. _If Jesse was asleep inside that apartment he would definitely have heard the pounding on his front door!_ Taking a few steps back, he rounded on the door with a heavy kick. The wood splintered and the door flew open with a resounding crash that reverberated around the living room. _I'll pay for the door later_ Steve thought as he entered the apartment, _If that doesn't wake him, nothing will_. 

Steve made immediately for the bedroom, having seen no Jesse in the living room or kitchen. He barrelled through the doorway and stopped short when he saw his friend curled up on the bed with the duvet tucked around his shoulders and a peaceful expression on his face. _I shoulda known! _Steve smirked in spite of himself _All this time I've been panicking and he's been asleep!_

Steve was about to turn and leave when he noticed something.

Just a tiny detail, yet it made his blood run cold and fear grip at his heart. There was no rise and fall of Jesse's chest. He was not sleeping.

__

He was not breathing!

Steve rushed to Jesse's bedside and shook him gently, trying to rouse him, hoping he wasn't mistaken. "Jesse!" He called softly as he grabbed a limp wrist to find his pulse. Steve's blood was pounding in his ears. Jesse was very cold, and his unresponsiveness worried Steve. _Please don't be dead! Please don't be dead! _He thought frantically as he searched for a pulse.

Finally, after several moments of fraught silence with only the sound of his own laboured breathing, he felt a weak pulse beating against his fingers. _That's it Jesse!_ Relief coursed through his veins, almost making him lose sight of the task at hand. He didn't know what was wrong with Jesse, but he knew that something was definitely not right. His hand went immediately to his pocket for his cell phone.

His fingers dialled the familiar 911. _ Those buttons are getting very worn _Steve thought grimly, how many times had he had to dial this number for a friend or member of his family?

With a calmness that only years on the police force could provide, Steve relayed the details of the situation to the woman on the other end of the phone.

"An ambulance will be there shortly Lieutenant Sloan" The emotionless voice told him. 

"Thank you" Steve said sincerely as he sank back against Jesse's bed. He sighed at the emotional upheaval of it all, and it still wasn't over; Jesse could still die. He only hoped he hadn't bee too late. _What happened here?_ Steve asked himself desperately. He'd seen this sort of thing before, when people had taken an overdose of drugs, _or been given an overdose of drugs!_

Steve jumped up from the bed as a fire had been lit underneath him and ran to the bathroom. He didn't have to search very far before he found what he was looking for. An empty aspirin bottle lying right next to Jesse's wash basin, the lid unscrewed. Had it been spiked? Or just how many had Jesse taken? He had gotten himself a concussion… Steve grabbed a tissue, lifted the bottle carefully and put it into his pocket. 

Just then he heard a siren in the distance. He rushed out of the bathroom and made for the front door to wait for the paramedics. After what seemed like an age, three men carrying a stretcher and an ECG came running up the hall. "In here" Steve shouted, leading them directly to his friend. "I suspect some kind of overdose" He advised them as they bent down to examine Jesse.

"He's still breathing" commented one as he put an oxygen mask securely around Jesse's pale face.

"Any idea how long he's been this way?" Another asked Steve as they began to strap Jesse into a stretcher.

"No, I found him this way about fifteen minutes ago" Steve answered quickly, trying to keep his cool. He lost the battle, "Will he be okay?" He asked despairingly.

"We don't know, but he needs to get to a hospital immediately, but I'd say your quick thinking may have greatly increased his chances of survival" The medic tried to reassure him. Steve appreciated it, but he felt no better. _If only I'd gotten there sooner…_

The paramedics were carrying Jesse out of the apartment, while Steve stood there lost in his own personal hell. "Lieutenant Sloan?" One of the medics cut through his thoughts. "Lieutenant Sloan would you like to ride in the ambulance?"

Steve regained his composure, " Uh, no I gotta sort out some things here" He wanted to go, but he had to make sure that nobody tampered with Jesse's apartment in his absence, and seeing as he _had _broken the door…

He stood forlornly watching the medics carry Jesse down the hall and out of his sight. Then he pulled out his cell phone and called his father.

* * * *

Mark thought he was ready when the paramedics wheeled Jesse into the ER. Putting his own personal fears aside he strode forward, professional mask firmly in place, as his young friend made his dramatic entrance.

Mark tried not to notice how pale his friend looked as he lay prone, mask strapped round his face, struggling to provide him with vital oxygen he so desperately needed. He snatched the chart away from the nearest medic and began barking out orders to the surrounding nurses. As they scattered, he directed the medics to Trauma 1 and gave the order for him to be placed on an examination table.

Mark ran a shaky hand through his grey hair and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Just then Doctor Richmond, an experienced ER resident, stepped up beside Mark. "I'll take over Mark, you look terrible" It wasn't an offer.

"No Tom, I'm fine I can handle it" _I sound just like Jesse!_ He thought sadly as he glanced at his now incapacitated friend. 

"Mark! Do you really think it's wise? You're emotionally involved! You could make a wrong decision" Richmond persisted.

Mark looked again at Jesse's chalk white figure, and made up his mind.

"Okay, you're right Tom" Mark looked a worn and beaten man as he watched his colleague take up the battle for Jesse's life. He had come to regard Jesse as more of a son than a friend, and seeing him like this really hit him hard. 

"Mark!" A familiar voice called from further down the ER, bringing him back to reality with a bang. Mark regained his senses and turned round, Amanda was running through the melee of nurses, doctors and patients that frequented the ER. Her face showed signs of strain and there were the beginnings of tears in her dark eyes. 

"I just heard" she choked out, "What's wrong with him?" Her eyes searched his, aching for some sort of reassurance that her friend would be okay. But Mark could give her none.

"I don't know Amanda" Mark sighed, "Steve told the paramedics that he thought Jesse had taken something, an overdose"

"Knowingly?" Amanda questioned, she looked sceptical.

"I don't know" Mark said again. "Steve's running tests on the aspirin bottle, and Tom Richmond's testing Jesse's blood, we'll know soon enough"

Mark's defeatist attitude was worrying, usually he was so positive. "He wouldn't let me…Tom wouldn't let me help, and it's all my fault that Jesse's in this situation"

Amanda grabbed Mark by the arm and pulled him into the doctor's lounge. "Mark, that's just not true"

He stared at her for a moment, "It is true Amanda, I should have gone to him! He'd been injured and I should have gone to him!" He sank down into a chair and out his head into his hands. "How long was he lying there? I should have been there!"

Amanda sat down next to him, not really knowing how to alleviate his guilt. "Jesse asked you not to come, he said he was fine he…there was no way you could have foreseen this. Besides, any one of us could have gone over there; the blame does not rest with you" She laid a comforting hand on his tense shoulders, trying to ease his pain. 

"I'll call Steve" she offered after a while.

"He won't come. I asked him before, when he told me…I'm really worried about him, he's throwing himself into finding out what happened. He hasn't behaved like this in a long time. He thinks it's his fault" Mark's face was haggard and pale. "He should be _here!_"

"Mark? Amanda?" Tom Richmond appeared at the door looking strained. "We're taking Jesse to the OR, whatever he took, we need to get it out of his system quickly. There's no time to wait for the test results, we're losing him"

To Be Continued…


	6. Seduced By Madness

Psychotic Break-out 

I'm Finally back with this chapter! Don't want to take up too much space with this but I have to get a few things sorted out.

Cerasi5 – thanks so much for reviewing and mentioning me in your story, it means a lot!

Indigo – I thank you for taking the time to point out my mistakes, but hey, I'm only human and I thought I could get away without doing research for the previous chapter, but I had always intended to do the research. One point though – I do know what an ECG is, I just phrased the sentence wrong - I should have put "Three men carrying a stretcher and pulling an ECG came running down the hall" Sorry for misunderstanding there, but as for the others, they really were my errors and I apologise if this spoiled the story for you

All Disclaimers Apply.

Chapter 6: Seduced By Madness

The flickering strip lights in the clinical Community General hallway illuminated Mark Sloan's haggard form as he paced up and down. His colleague and close friend Amanda Bentley sat slumped in an uncomfortable plastic chair with her head cradled in her arms. Both were the picture of dejection, their faces barely registering what was going on around them. They didn't speak. There was no need, they each knew what the other was thinking, or rather praying.

__

He has to be okay! Please let him be okay!

Minutes turned to hours as they both played the waiting game. Mark pacing, Amanda staring, until eventually she could take it no more.

"Mark, please sit down! You'll tire yourself out!" She coerced him, softly but firmly.

Mark sighed, and slowly took out a handkerchief to wipe his brow. After he had done so, he sighed again and then wearily made his way over to sit down beside Amanda.

Not only was Jesse's present situation gnawing at him like a disease, but the fact that Steve had yet to show up…It had been like he'd barely registered the fact that his friend was seriously ill. He'd reacted impassively when Mark rang to tell him of Jesse's complications, something that did not ring true for Mark. He knew his son cared deeply for Jesse, but something - guilt? Fear? – was keeping him away.

"Thinking about Steve?" Amanda asked softly, correctly interpreting Mark's brooding expression.

"Yeah" Mark sighed again, the lines on his face seeming even more defined. "I wish he was here I – I _need _him!"

"I know" Amanda whispered.

Just then Tom Richmond burst through the doors from the OR.

Amanda and Mark stood up immediately, fearing the worst. Mark tried to glean something, anything, from Tom's expression. But years as an experienced doctor had taught him to be removed from the emotions and the pain, and so he stood before them, his face unreadable.

"Tom?" Amanda asked.

Tom let his face relax, "He's going to be okay" he breathed out.

"Thank god" Mark whispered, the burden lifting from his shoulders. "What happened? What did he take?"

"The blood tests showed a high level of Aripiprazole in his bloodstream" Tom explained, "Thankfully it'll just work its way out of his system, his symptoms are fairly common"

"Aripiprazole? But Jesse wasn't prescribed any anti-psychotics!" Amanda exclaimed, surprised. Of all the drugs she had suspected…this had definitely taken her by surprise.

"That's right!" Mark exclaimed, "We don't use that drug here!"

"But we know where they do use it" said a voice at the other end of the corridor, "and we also know who was recently prescribed them"

"Steve!" Amanda and Mark said simultaneously. They both watched him stride down the hall, a look of disgust on his face.

"What did you find out?" Amanda questioned him before he had a chance to say anything else.

"I'll tell you everything, but first I need to know that he's okay" Steve looked desperately from his father to Amanda.

"He'll be fine" Mark smiled as he told him. The past few hours had really taken their toll, and it felt good to let a bit of the tension go.

Steve's muscles relaxed and he sank down into a chair, his energy reserves finally having given out.

"I'll, uh, just give you guys some space" Tom Richmond cut in to their small reunion.

"Oh! Tom!" Mark said apologetically, as all of them in the heat of the moment had forgotten the other man's presence. "I'm sorry! Look, thanks for all you've done for Jesse" Mark thanked him profusely.

"All in a day's work!" Tom joked, trying to lighten things up a little. "Seriously though, anytime! Oh, and Jesse's in room 255, he should wake up soon" The younger man turned and walked back down the hall, his blue scrubs disappearing around a faraway corner.

Mark turned back to his exhausted looking son. "Are you saying that Chloe Marsden was prescribed these drugs?" he cut straight to the point.

"The Institution records show that she was prescribed Aripiprazole, and we found traces of it Jesse's aspirin bottle" He answered, becoming alert. "I swear, I'll kill her!" He whispered furiously.

"But why would she give them to Jesse? She must have known they were unlikely to do him any serious harm" Amanda queried, confused.

"I think she knew alright!" Mark said darkly, his face pensive. "I think it was a warning"

* * * *

Jesse awoke to a thundering headache, and an acidic taste in his dry mouth. _Have I been sick! _He wondered vaguely, swallowing and reaching over to a pitcher of water beside his bed. _Wait a second! _He was in Community General,_ What the hell happened?_

He sat up quickly, too quickly – he could feel a wave of nausea sweep over his stomach, and the thudding in his head increased tenfold. He moaned, and lay back down again.

"Take it easy Jess" said a voice coming from the doorway, and an older, white haired doctor entered the room. He looked somewhat more tense than usual, but he still wore his token glittering smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Sick," He answered weakly, "Mark! What happened? What am I doing here?" All of Jesse's questions rushed out at once, and Mark strode over to his bedside, revealing behind him the figures of Steve and Amanda lurking in the doorway.

"Jesse calm down, you took an overdose and went into shock" Mark told him gently.

Jesse went white, " I only took a couple of aspirins, I- I wouldn't make that kind of mistake I -"

"Jess, it wasn't aspirin in that bottle. It was Aripiprazole" Mark interrupted gently.

"Aripiprazole? What the - Oh" It suddenly dawned on him, "Chloe!" He ran a hand through his mussed up, dirty blond hair and sighed. He looked more frail than ever now, his face showing deep anxiety and fear.

"Boy, you sure made that connection quicker than dad did!" Steve joked, trying to ease the tension of the situation.

"Steve!" Amanda scolded gently.

"If it hadn't been for Steve, you might have died" Mark continued as if he had not heard what Steve had said. At his words, Steve began to look very uncomfortable, he didn't want or need Jesse's gratitude, he'd saved Jesse's life because of the almost brotherly bond they shared, not because of some heroic act. 

Jesse looked at Steve, a look of pure thankfulness settled upon his soft features. "Steve, I, uh, don't know what to say" he said, his voice filled with emotion.

"Don't say anything" Steve said softly, "Ahem" then cleared his throat, wishing desperately that this awkward moment would pass. He caught Jesse's eye, and saw him nod to show he understood.

"Yeah, so, find anything out about Chloe?" Jesse asked quickly, knowing Steve wanted to change the subject.

"No, we still don't know where she is" Mark spoke this time, staring at Jesse. "I think you should tell us what really happened yesterday when you hit your head"

"What?" The question took Jesse completely by surprise, and his drug filled brain struggled to get into gear. "What do you mean, _What really happened?_" Jesse spluttered incredulously, "I told you the plant – "

"Fell on your head?" Amanda finished for him, "Jesse, Chloe had to have been in your apartment to have switched your pills, why don't you tell us the truth. You didn't really expect us to swallow that crap?"

"Okay, okay" Jesse gave in, "I didn't want to tell you because, well, I wasn't sure that it actually happened. I didn't want to worry you guys, but I suppose now that this has…" He paused for a brief moment to collect his nerve and then continued. " I thought I saw something in my apartment that morning"

* * * *

Hours later - after his friends had left – Jesse Travis lay contemplatively in his hospital bed. Mark, Steve and Amanda had reacted almost typically – immediately getting themselves worked up about what he had seen, or thought he'd seen. He personally hadn't cleared things up in his own mind about what happened. His memory was drawing a curious blank, he remembered what happened all right, but he also remembered having dreams. It was this part that he found most difficult, separating dreams from reality.

One fact remained, however. Chloe had to have been in his apartment, and if she had been there then it meant that what he had seen was true, if you thought about it logically. And Jesse was thinking about it logically, but he also knew that a part of him wanted it to be nothing, a dream, and that this part of him was trying to suppress what his rationality was trying to show him.

He glanced upwards as nurse with short blond hair and glasses entered his room, he didn't recognise her, but then again that didn't really mean anything, the nurses at Community General frequently changed. There _was_ something familiar about her, but Jesse put it down to the trauma he had suffered and the concoction of drugs that he had ingested, willingly or otherwise.

"How are we doing Doctor Travis" She asked shyly in a Southern accent.

"Better" Jesse commented, his throat sounded raspy and dry.

"Here" the nurse said, handing him a glass of water.

"Thanks" Jesse said proceeding to gulp down some much needed refreshment.

The nurse busied herself with his bed covers. "You new here?" Jesse asked her.

"Why Yes!" She laughed, "Just started this evening in fact! I just moved here from Alabama" _That explains the accent!_ Jesse thought as he laughed along with her. Her laughter was infectious.

"This your first nursing job?" he enquired, genuinely interested. He always liked to make new staff feel welcome.

"No, uh, no. I worked for a couple of years in a mental institution" Her face darkened slightly.

"Didn't like it huh?" Jesse asked sympathetically.

"Let's just say I was glad to get away"

* * * *

Chloe Marsden left the hospital room and collapsed against the corridor wall. It had been so hard keeping up that act, that sweet Southern Belle act when all she wanted to do was wring his neck.

He anger seethed and bubbled under the surface, and she felt her face redden. _Have more control over yourself! _She scolded herself, _It will happen all in good time._

She took one last glance at his dosing form, and ripped herself away. She had to be careful otherwise this would never work, she had to bide her time. The aim was not purely to kill him, but to give him as much pain as he had given her, and by god he would suffer.

To Be Continued…

Whew! Glad I managed to get this chapter finished. It's taken me long enough. Please review, but be understanding! I've been so so busy lately, excuses excuses I know! But I'm really not fobbing you guys off! Just bear with me;)


	7. Recess

Psychotic Break-out

Hi everyone! Homework's been getting on top of me again I'm afraid! Bit more "setting the scene" for this chapter but it does mean a quicker update I suppose! Hope you enjoy!

All Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 7 : Recess

The early morning sun lit up the city of Los Angeles so that it was basked in some sort of heavenly glow. Mark Sloan never tired of it. He stood out upon his deck, facing the ocean and revelling in the glorious breeze that ruffled his hair and acted as a coolant against the burning hot sun.

It had been a month since Chloe Marsden had escaped, and three weeks since Jesse had been released from Community General. Life had returned to normal, with no news of the escaped mental patient.

Jesse had visibly begun to relax, something which pleased Mark, but also made him worry. He didn't want his young friend to drop his guard; Chloe could be laying low, planning something. Every time he thought about it he felt uneasy, something wasn't quite right.

Steve had exhausted all of his leads regarding Chloe and was notably exasperated at himself for letting her get away. He would pore over police files in the evening armed with a jug of strong coffee until he involuntarily fell asleep on top of them.

Nobody had spotted Chloe Marsden, and where she was now was anyone's guess; and Mark's guess was that she wasn't far away, but of course, it was just a hunch. He leant forward against the railing and felt his brow crease into a frown. He hated it when he knew something was wrong but couldn't do anything about it.

"Dad?" Steve's voice interrupted his thoughts, he turned to face his son as he stepped onto the deck.

"Morning son" he said brightly. He looked curiously at the unusually happy expression on his son's face. "Okay what's going on?" He gave in to temptation.

"Yoshe's coming home today!" Steve gushed, his smile widening.

"Of course!" Mark smacked his forehead in mock anger, he had been so caught up in Chloe Marsden that he had forgotten that Steve's girlfriend Yoshe Wiseman was coming back from Japan that day. American born Yoshe's mother lived in Japan while her estranged father lived in New York. Yoshe had spent the past 3 months with her mother.

Steve and Yoshe had been dating for 11 months, and were looking very serious. Mark had never seen his son so smitten with anyone, something that Jesse had been very quick to pick up on. Unsurprisingly, he began to tease Steve and unsurprisingly it had annoyed him. Mark could remember laughing that day in BBQ Bob's when Steve took a swipe at his friend's head, but had missed and ended up sending a huge plate of Barbecue ribs to the floor.

He chuckled at the memory.

"What are you laughing at Dad?" Steve smiled a little self-consciously, he could always tell when his father was laughing at him rather than with him.

" Oh! Nothing Steve. So when's her flight arrive?" 

"In a couple of hours, I'll bring her round by Bob's later on" Steve relished the words.

"Won't she be tired? It's a pretty long flight" Mark enquired, concerned. He certainly didn't want Yoshe burning herself out, he was pretty fond of the young woman himself.

"Dad!" Steve whined, like a small child who thought he might not get his own way. "She's done it a million times, she'll be fine" 

"Hmm" Mark lapsed into thought for a while.

"You're thinking about _her_ aren't you?" Steve asked, his expression darkening.

"I've been thinking about nothing else for weeks" Mark responded.

"Look Dad, what if she really has gone? I can't keep up that police watch on Jesse's apartment much longer, the Captain's starting to nag about it. There's no sign of her"

"It just doesn't feel right"

"I know what you mean, but the facts speak for themselves. Chloe Marsden is gone" Steve said firmly, though not quite believing it, but he didn't want anything to spoil this day.

"I wish I could believe it" Mark called over his shoulder as he went back inside to get ready for work.

Steve was left alone on the deck. He turned towards the sand and surf, blissfully enjoying the view. He watched the various joggers and walkers on the beach, wishing he could be out there with them, but work called. He took one last look at a pretty blond woman walking along the water's edge and followed his father back inside.

* * * *

Jesse Travis handed out what felt like the millionth plate of barbecue ribs. The old man, with a young boy – presumably his grandson – smiled at him and thanked him with a hungry look in his eyes. "Enjoy!" Jesse said heartily, smiling back.

As he stepped back behind the counter, his friends Mark Sloan and Amanda Bentley walked in. "Hey guys!" Jesse called as he rang up a payment for a customer on the till. "Here you go, Have a nice day!" He said to the departing customer, and then turned to his friends who had sat down in front of the counter. "Where's Steve?" He enquired curiously.

Mark smiled knowingly at Amanda before answering. "He's picking up Yoshe from the airport, in fact he should be here soon" He checked his watch as he spoke. "But until then, I would like some barbecue ribs" 

"Comin' right up! What about you Amanda?" Jesse was back in business mode.

"I think I'll take a Caesar thanks Jesse" She replied, smiling at the young doctor. Jesse had eventually persuaded Steve to put some salads on the menu, and he had grudgingly admitted – when they had sold well – that they had been a good idea.

"Salad Amanda? You don't want Jesse getting any ideas! What ever happened to a big plate of barbecue ribs!" Said a voice from behind.

"Steve!" Jesse exclaimed happy to see his best friend, "Yoshe! How was the flight?" Jesse leaned over the counter to give the petit woman a friendly hug. 

"Long! But I'm used to it I guess!" She laughed, her dark hair framing her heart shaped face, and he hazel eyes twinkling. Steve put a comforting arm around her shoulder as she answered, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Good to see you Yoshe!" Mark jovially patted her on the shoulder, his white teeth glittering as his mouth stretched into a grin.

The newcomers settled, conversation turned to Yoshe's stay in Japan, all were eager to know how she had spent her time. Every so often Steve would giver her a sly glance, and she would smile shyly back at him. Jesse watched this happy scene from behind the counter; Steve deserved to have Yoshe, his days as the unluckiest batchelor in LA seemed now to be over, and Jesse had been the first person to congratulate him. But Jesse couldn't prevent a feeling of envy from escaping. Steve had a beautiful girlfriend, and Jesse had Chloe Marsden on his tail. Jesse knew fine that Mark believed him to be over it, but he was far from that.

At night, dreams haunted him, and during the day he saw her everywhere – a bank teller, a hospital patient, a cleaner. It drove him crazy, he almost wished she would just come out and do something – anything was better than this endless game of cat and mouse, not knowing what she was planning.

Soon Mark, Steve, and Yoshe were the last "customers" inside the restaurant, Amanda having excused herself earlier to get back to CJ and Dion.

Business hours were certainly over, but the pile of dirty plates waited for him in the kitchen. Jesse had let the staff go home early as it was a Friday night, and so he knew he would remain here for a while. _Oh well_ he thought as he wiped the counter with a wet cloth, _at least it will keep my mind of Chloe._ Work was one of the only things he enjoyed anymore; if he kept busy then he didn't have time to worry about the mental patient who was after his blood. 

"Jess?" Mark's voice interrupted his silent musings.

"Sorry Mark! I was just uh, lost in thought for a while" he tried to explain to his mentor and close friend.

"Me and Steve'll do the cleaning up, you need a break, you've been working all night" 

Jesse didn't have the strength to argue. He found himself sitting next to Yoshe at a small table in the corner of the restaurant. The Japanese woman was silent for a while – Jesse presumed she was jet-lagged – until Mark and Steve disappeared into the kitchen, when she suddenly came out of her trance.

"Jesse, you free tomorrow afternoon?" She whispered softly.

"Uh, yeah, I think so" he whispered back, a little bemused by her forward nature. "Why?"

"I have something really important to talk to you about" She sounded urgent, but not desperately so. Jesse was intrigued, if a little suspicious.

"Why can't you tell me now?"

"Because Steve can't know, not now anyway. I'll come by your apartment at 3 okay?" This having now been said, she lapsed into silence once more, leaving a bewildered Jesse struggling to guess what this was all about.

* * * *

This was killing her inside.

She didn't even know why she was waiting anymore.

All she had to do was get a shotgun, walk into his apartment and blow him to pieces.

Something stopped her. Shooting him would be too easy. 

She had been watching him for weeks now, trying to find the perfect moment to strike, the perfect situation to sabotage, the moment to perfect her art.

An interesting development had occurred that evening it seemed. Chloe could feel the anticipation building inside, like a flower raising its petals, ready to burst into bloom.

She watched their little brigade troop out from inside the restaurant, feeling safe behind the darkened windows of her sedan. 

The yellow streetlight illuminated Jesse for just a moment, and Chloe's breath caught in her throat. He really was something. The desire almost overcame her. The thrill of the chase was overwhelming, and she knew instinctively that the next stage was close. She had been patient, and now it was time for some fun.

To Be Continued…

Please let me know what you think! 


	8. Hit and Run

Psychotic Break-out

Hey guys! Finally another chapter posted, thank god for the October Holiday! Anyway, thanks for all your reviews! And on with the story!

All Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 8: Hit and Run

Chloe Marsden set down her binoculars and rubbed her eyes. She'd been watching his apartment for hours now and she hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of him. His kitchen window stood directly in her observation, but she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him. _Obviously he doesn't eat much_, Chloe thought absent-mindedly.

A shuffling sound coming from the corner of her borrowed living room caught her attention. She swivelled her head round, and saw that the noise was coming from the widowed middle-aged woman she'd tied to a dining chair and gagged. She smiled at the woman said softly in her best comforting voice – which sounded more like a chilling taunt – "Don't fret Mrs Shaw, its not time for your dinner yet" 

She faced the window again, checked her watch – the time was 3.00pm - and doggedly put the binoculars back to her eyes. _Hello! What's this!_ She thought excitedly as the little Japanese woman from the night before appeared outside Jesse's apartment building. _She has to be going to see _him_!_ She remembered seeing the two of them huddling close through the window of Barbecue Bob's and shuddered. The thought of him enjoying a relationship with this woman when he had ruined her life was too much to bear. _Something must be done!_

* * * *

Jesse sat waiting for the impending knock on his door with baited breath. Ever since Yoshe's cryptic message last night he had been racking his brains as to what she could possibly have to tell him. Was it about Chloe? Did she know something? But how could she? She didn't even know about Chloe, unless…Steve could have told her!

He leapt off the seat when he heard the sound of rapping knuckles. Opening the door with forced calmness he fought the urge to demand to know what was going on.

She smiled, as he greeted her and invited her inside quickly. He offered her a seat on his couch and she nervously accepted, jerkily perching herself on the edge of the sofa. Everything about her looked awkward, her short sharp breaths, her twitching fingers.

Jesse himself sat across from her on his single armchair. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?" he came right out with it, he figured she wouldn't mind, given her directness with him the previous night.

It seemed she hadn't wanted to waste time with small talk either. "I'm glad you asked that Jesse. I was trying to figure out how best to phrase this, I'm kinda new at this sort of thing"

Jesse gave her a questioning glance. He was getting rapidly impatient.

"I wanna marry Steve!" She blurted out, her lips curving into a wide grin.

Jesse was lost for words. Instead he let out a gasp of relief, mixed with shock at the same time.

"You sound relieved! What did you think I was going to say?" Yoshe giggled.

"Best if I don't answer that question!" Jesse laughed, "So you wanna marry Steve! I-wow! This is so cool! But why did you come to me? What can I do?"

"Well this is going to sound a little silly but, well, I wanted your help in choosing a ring" Yoshe admitted, a little embarrassed. 

"No problem!" Jesse assured her, he was certainly glad to help. " I don't have a shift for a few hours, you wanna go have a look now?"

"Uh, no time like the present I guess!" Yoshe was overjoyed. "Thanks Jesse!"

* * * *

Chloe sat at the wheel of her darkened sedan, waiting for the mystery woman to appear from inside the apartment. She felt empowered by a jealous rage she couldn't explain. The only thing she felt certain of was that this woman needed to be removed.

Just then she saw the two of them heading out to the woman's car, huddled in deep conversation, both smiling. _That's it!_ She thought angrily, _Enough waiting! _Her veins seethed with poisonous venom.

Her knuckles turned white as they gripped the steering wheel, and for a moment she stared at them, fascinated by their loss of colour. She was struck by the image of the woman dead and cold on an examination table. Her lips curled into an evil smile as she pressed down on the accelerator.

* * * *

Downtown LA was bustling with the early afternoon shopping crowd. Some, glamorous mothers carting about with them children dressed head-to-toe in designer gear. Some, middle-aged women wearing sweatpants and t-shirts dragging bored husbands after them and some, teenage girls going for an after-school stroll round Abercrombie and Fitch.

But there were only two people Chloe Marsden was concerned with.

Chloe stood across the street, opposite the jewellery shop she had seen them go into, Diamonds are Forever. She chuckled at the irony of the name, as far as Jesse was concerned, whatever diamonds he was buying for this woman would certainly not last forever. 

After half an hour of waiting, she decided to cross over and take a look through the shop window. Slipping her sunglasses on she stepped off the curb and walked briskly across the street.

Keeping her head down so that her face was hidden, she pretended to be browsing at the diamond rings through the window, sneaking glances at the man and woman examining the wares of the plump, greying man behind the counter. They seemed to be finalising a transaction, with Jesse handing over his credit card and the Japanese woman practically jumping up and down with happiness. _Just wait till I wipe the smile off your face! Literally! _She snarled inwardly. She turned and made her way back to her parked car.

* * * *

"Thank you so much Jesse!" Yoshe squealed as Jesse handed over his credit card. She hadn't really expected him to pay for the ring, but when he'd seen how much she liked it and found out how little money she had, he'd been unstoppable.

"I told you it's okay!" He reassured her for the umpteenth time, "You can take as much time as you want to pay the money back, and anyway, this is for Steve!" He smiled warmly at her as Mr. Kane handed over the ring in its velvet box, and the receipt.

They exited the shop and strolled along the sidewalk in amiable silence. Both pondering Steve's reaction when he was given the ring – a 24-carat gold band with a square cut diamond set low down in the gold. Masculine, yet classy. Jesse had been sure that Steve would love it.

"Steve getting married, I never thought I'd see the day!" Jesse joked softly as they returned to his mustang convertible.

"I'm sure Steve would be glad to know that!" Yoshe laughed back as she slid into the comfortable leather seat. "Listen," she said turning serious, "You won't tell Steve that I couldn't pay for it will you?" Her eyes were wide and anxious as she looked at him.

"No, not if you don't want me to" Jesse assured her, "I promise"

* * * *

Chloe was back at the apartment complex before Jesse and Yoshe, and so she was in perfect position.

Jesse got out of his mustang and waited for Yoshe to join him before he carefully locked it. 

"I'd better be going" Yoshe said, looking at Jesse with the utmost admiration. "I'll let you know what he says" She smiled with a twinkle in her eye.

"Oh I'm sure I'll here it from him before you ever get the chance!" Jesse smiled back.

"Thanks again!" she hugged him gratefully and stepped out into the street to walk to her car.

The roar of a powerful engine and the screech of hard tyres hugging the asphalt interrupted their goodbye. 

A dark sedan careered around the corner and sped straight towards Yoshe, who had reached the middle of the road.

"Yoshe!" Jesse shouted as he began to run, heart pounding, mind working overtime. 

He had to reach her in time, he just had to.

He sprinted out into the middle of the road and made a flying leap in Yoshe's direction and could only hope his aim was true. He hit the ground hard, his head cracking against the asphalt and he heard the smack of impact as metal hit flesh.

The last thing he heard was the sound of the car speeding away as he blacked out. 

To Be Continued… 

Please review!! 


	9. Guilty

Psychotic Break-out

Hey guys! Thank you so much for your reviews, you guys are great! Hope you continue to enjoy the story!

All Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 9: Guilty

Jesse woke after a few seconds, momentarily dazed by the bang on his head.

He pushed himself up to a crouch, trying to shake the cobwebs that seemed to have settled in his brain. His eyes were fuzzy and the street was slanted at an unnatural angle. As he rubbed his eyes, he noticed that his hands were shaking. He swayed dangerously as a nauseous feeling crept into the pit of his stomach.

It took him a good few minutes to focus on the woman splayed out in front of him.

Jesse reached immediately for her limp wrist and automatically felt for a pulse. Feeling strangely calm, he let it drop to the asphalt. She was dead.

The only discernible mark upon her, was the slight trickle of blood flowing from a small scratch on her forehead. Black hair flung out in all directions, her head lay at an awkward angle, and her dead eyes drooped towards the ground. A little distance away, the ring intended for Steve had fallen after the impact from the car. Jesse watched it gleam in the afternoon light, transfixed, pictures of what might have been flashed before his eyes.

He shook his head quickly, causing it to throb intently. He grasped his head in his hands and let a tear creep down his cheek: not for the pain in his head but for what that pain represented: Yoshe was dead. The statement rang like a hollow bell inside his head. Yoshe was dead! _And I could have stopped it!_

What would Steve say, when he found out that Jesse had had the chance to save her? It was then he realised why his cell phone had stayed inside his pocket. He didn't want to call in the accident, he didn't want to admit he had failed his best friend, he didn't want to tell Steve that the woman he loved so much was dead. Phoning the hospital would be like closing the chapter in a book, and he did not want the chapter to finish.

He laid a hand on her cheek; the warm remnants of life clung to her soft skin. Jesse had never felt like this before; as a doctor he had seen many people die that he had been unable to save…but this was entirely different. This time there had been no procedure to follow, no "complications" to hide behind. Yoshe's life had been in his hands and he had _let_ her die! 

Reluctantly, he dug his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cell phone. After dialling the number he explained calmly the situation and asked for some assistance. The police would have to be notified naturally, and that also meant Steve…He didn't want to think about that just yet. After he had been assured that some EMTs and the Medical examiner would be dispatched, he slumped back to the ground, exhausted. 

The street seemed strangely quiet, not a car had been past since the accident. _Accident? _He thought slowly, realising the implications of what his mind was suggesting. He tried to remember, but the injury to his head was making thinking very difficult. _The screech of tyres, the roar of the engine, the desperate feeling inside his very soul as he dived towards her…It had been no accident, it had been a hit and run! What if Chloe…? _ He dismissed this thought however, Chloe had been gone for weeks, and why would she target Yoshe? It all made no sense!

Suddenly he heard vehicles moving up the street: it was the ambulance and the county medical examiner's car. _That was quick!_ Jesse thought, not realising that fifteen minutes had passed during his silent ponderings.

Two EMTs leapt out of the ambulance and made their way over to Yoshe's body, nodding to Jesse on the way. Doctor Warren Brett, the medical examiner stepped out of his own car and stood there for a moment, surveying the scene before him. He caught sight of Jesse and walked up to him. "Need a hand Jesse?" he asked compassionately, offering his hand to the dazed young doctor.

"Thanks Warren" Jesse said as the older man hauled him to his feet.

"Did you witness the accident?" He questioned, slipping into professional mode.

"In a way" Jesse answered, feeling very fatigued. He really didn't want to answer these questions, but it would be much worse when the police came. "I, uh, was on my way to get Miss Wiseman out of the way of the car, but it was coming on way to fast, and I wasn't able to make it on time" Jesse finished softly, glancing over at Yoshe with the EMTs bending over her.

"You hit your head" It was more of a statement than a question. Warren's eyes registered concern as he glanced at the deep bruise forming on Jesse's forehead.

"Just a little knock" Jesse tried to brush it off, but Warren was having none of it.

"Hey Patrick!" He shouted one of the EMTs, who appeared to have established properly that Yoshe Wiseman was indeed dead. "Want to come and examine the bruise on Doctor Travis's forehead?"

Jesse felt like a small child "Nah, its all right guys. It's fine really"

"If you say so Jesse, but all the same - " Warren tried to insist.

"I'm fine" Jesse snapped, the events of the past hour beginning to take their toll.

"Well, okay, but I suggest you take a lie down, get some rest"

"Thanks" Jesse said brusquely, knowing that the older doctor meant well, he just didn't have any idea what was going on inside Jesse's head. "I suppose I'd better take my chance, the police'll be knocking on my door before long!" he joked sarcastically and began to walk up the pathway to his apartment block, taking one last look at the scene – it would stay imprinted on his brain, branded there as the mark of his failure.

* * * *

The police came and went, asking questions and generally making Jesse feel like he was the criminal and not the victim. No mention was made of Steve, and Jesse was very worried about him, but way too frightened to actually make contact; something that he was very ashamed of.

Later that evening, he was lying on his couch aimlessly flicking from channel to channel on his television set. A sharp knock on the door almost made him jump off the seat with fright, but he managed to compose himself enough to get up and answer the door.

Steve Sloan stood in the doorway, a look of utter desolation in his face and his eyes registered shock and – and anger!

"S-Steve" Jesse said weakly, not knowing what to say to his best friend. "I-I uh, do you want to come in?"

Steve looked at him as if he had just said something ridiculous, but he stepped inside regardless. "I'm not staying long, I just wanted to come over and ask you in person!" He snarled.

"Steve w-what -?" Jesse stuttered, absolutely bewildered.

"I wanted to ask you if you were glad! Glad that you ruined my one chance of happiness!" Tears streamed down his face as he stared at Jesse with complete unabashed hatred.

Jesse knew that Steve was riddled with grief, but he couldn't shake the urge to burst into tears himself. Did Steve think that he wasn't already beating himself up over what happened? "Steve, you – you got it all wrong! I tried to save her I - "

"Oh spare me your excuses Jesse! This is entirely your fault! You took away the love of my life! I will _never _forgive you for this! If I could, I'd arrest you for culpable homicide, but the Captain says it wasn't _your _fault!" He laughed sarcastically. "I heard you hit your head! I hope it hurt nearly as much as you hurt me Jesse!"

With that he stormed out leaving a confused and devastated Jesse Travis behind him.

To Be Continued…


	10. Cancer

Psychotic Break-out 

Hey guys! I'm sorry this took me so long to post. I confess I did have a little bit of writer's block, that and sooooo soooo much homework! Okay, enough excuses! Thanks guys for all your reviews, and on with the story!

All Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 10 – Cancer

Jesse furtively looked round the hospital reception area. No Mark. No Steve. No Amanda. _Good!_ He thought. The idea of dealing with them right now made his stomach feel like jelly. He winced at the memory of Steve's outburst the previous night – Steve had been right of course, the whole thing _was_ his fault, but it felt considerably worse coming from his best friend than it had from himself.

He darted from his temporary hiding place in the storeroom, hoping to make it across the reception area without running into one of _them. _

He must have made it only half way before someone tapped him on the shoulder. Jesse turned slowly, dread churning in the pit of his stomach. Which one would it be? 

Soon, he was staring into the probing, clear blue eyes of Mark Sloan. Mark had a concerned air about his features as his eyes examined Jesse's face; it was clear to Mark that his young protégéé wanted nothing more than the floor to just swallow him up whole.

"Jesse!" Mark said faux-cheerfully, trying to avoid the tangible awkwardness between them. 

"Mark!" Jesse laughed nervously, and inwardly cringing. He _hated_ these sort of moments. "How are things? How's Ste…" Jesse cut himself off as he realised he had just brought up the subject that he most wanted to steer clear of.

"Steve is, uh, as well as can be expected" Mark answered as tactfully as he could manage. "Look Jesse, Steve told me what transpired between the two of you last night – " Mark went straight to the point, hoping to shock his young friend into a direct answer.

"Mark, can we just not…go there right now, I don't wanna talk about it" Jesse made as if to turn around, but Mark caught his shoulder.

"Jesse I do not want you getting the idea that this is all your fault. Steve said some things – "

"Mark I really don't have time for this! I've still gotta do my rounds, I mean I need to get round the ICU before midday and – " 

"Someone can cover for you, we need to talk about this now!" Mark protested, desperately trying not to let Jesse talk his way out of this.

Luckily, Jesse was saved – or not as the case may be – by the arrival of Amanda Bentley. Her face was flushed and her eyes urgent as she reached them.

"Mark…Jesse, I've completed Yoshe's autopsy" she announced, shooting a glance at Jesse, a look that did not go unnoticed by the young doctor. She leaned towards Mark. "Steve is here" she whispered into his ear.

"Guys?" Jesse tapped Amanda on the shoulder. "I'm not deaf okay? If Steve is here, then he won't want to see me. So it's probably better if I just stay out of his way, okay? You can tell me about the autopsy later, anyway, I have the _delightful_ Mrs Hayes to see in the ICU, so I'll be going" He pivoted and stalked angrily down the corridor.

"But Jesse!" Mark called.

Amanda laid an arm on his shoulder, "Leave him. He's right, Steve doesn't want him there, and I think the one person who can sort this out is Steve – so you'd be better talking to _him_ rather than Jesse"

Mark sighed and watched the retreating figure of his young friend "You're right Amanda" he admitted reluctantly and followed her up to the pathology lab.

* * * *

Steve sat staring blankly in front of him, he barely even noticed when his father and Amanda entered the lab, and barely even acknowledged their greeting.

"Steve?" Mark waved a hand before Steve's still gaze, and watched the recognition flash back into his eyes.

"Oh, hey Dad." He said in a monotonous voice, "When did you get here?" he asked, not particularly interested in the answer. Shock had apparently stepped in to replace the anger inside Steve. Mark crouched down to study his son's features; he looked just like a small child, innocent and confused.

"Steve" he said in a soft, fatherly tone, "Amanda's gonna read out the autopsy results now okay?"

"Yeah" Steve replied absently. This made his father even more worried; Mark had expected anger - even tears and hysteria – but the way his son was so calm and devoid of emotion made him anxious about how Yoshe's death was affecting him.

Mark tried to ignore Steve's reply. "Amanda?"

"Right Mark, Steve…it's pretty obvious how Yoshe died. She was struck, uh, above the knee and rolled onto the windshield of the vehicle. The speed that it was travelling was so great that she was thrown from – " she paused to clear her throat, "from the windshield and hit the ground where she broke her spinal chord in the region of the neck. She died of asphyxia; the bone restricted the supply of oxygen to her brain. There was _nothing_ that could have been done, she died within a _matter of minutes_." She stressed the last sentence deliberately, trying to show Steve that Jesse could have done nothing to influence the outcome of the accident.

Mark had been watching Steve throughout Amanda's speech; he had seen the silent tear rolling down his son's cheek, and had watched his shoulders shake as he sobbed silently. He reached over and pulled his son into an embrace, he expected resistance, but Steve just collapsed into his arms. "Its okay son" he whispered soothingly.

Amanda closed her file softly letting a tear run down her own cheek at the thought of what Steve must be feeling. She realised that she was intruding on what was clearly a private moment, so she laid the file down and tip-toed out of the lab, wiping the tear away as she went. 

* * * *

Jesse let himself go as he sped down the empty highway. He didn't care if he got busted; he just wanted to feel the wind whipping through his hair and to feel free as the world whizzed by him. He wished he could let his guilt be carried off by the wind, but it just wasn't as easy as that. The nauseous feeling in his stomach was like a cancer, spreading to all parts of his body and making him almost paralysed with shame and guilt.

It practically consumed him; the accident; his failure; Steve's outburst. He just wanted to escape it all. _Maybe I could transfer to another hospital! Start afresh! They'd never have to see me again and I'd never have to see them!_

It would never work though, he decided as he turned up his familiar street and pulled up outside his apartment block, wherever he went it would follow him like a dark cloud. Could he ever be happy again? Without his closest friends? Knowing that he had as good as ruined Steve's life? 

__

Maybe I'd be better off dead, He thought. Part of him was serious. _Would they all miss me? _Jesse didn't usually allow himself these self-indulgent thoughts, but this was a mitigating circumstance.

He got out of his convertible and stood still for a moment, staring at _that spot_ on the asphalt. Still covered by the tent used by the forensics experts, it stood out like a beacon against the darkness of the street. He couldn't stay here, he just couldn't, but he didn't know where he would go. To his mother's? The thought almost made him laugh out loud. 

He turned and walked up the pathway to his apartment block, but stopped halfway and spun round. He had the unshakeable feeling that he was being watched. His eyes roved the street and buildings around him. Nothing. He was about to move forward again when he noticed a small tabby cat looking at him from behind a shrub on the verge by the pathway. Its yellow eyes glinted suspiciously as it observed him. _Just a cat!_ Jesse chuckled despite himself, _I really am getting too paranoid!_

He turned the light on in his small apartment as he entered, it's bare bulb casting a bright glow across the room, and headed straight for the cupboard where he stored his alcohol. Pulling out a bottle of vodka, he scrutinised it and considered downing it all at once, but then thought better of it and decided to drink it a shot at a time. After two shots, he decided to pour himself a bigger glass. 

He sat down on his couch and put the glass to his lips. _Is this the way my life is gonna turn out? _He asked himself, _Is this what I have been reduced to?_ He screwed up his features as the liquid burned his parched throat, and sighed as he swallowed it. 

He set the glass down on his coffee table and glanced over at his front door. A pile of letters lay brushed aside; he must have walked passed without noticing them. He got up slowly and went to pick them up. Most of them were bills. The one from his credit card company caught his eye. He ripped it open and began to read. Right at the bottom was an amount for three thousand dollars, it was for _Diamonds are Forever_. 

He dropped the stack of letters as an image of Yoshe's face, ecstatic because he had agreed to help her buy Steve's ring, pasted itself in front of his eyes. As if by magic, it melted into a worried expression.

__

"You won't tell Steve I couldn't pay for it will you?"

"Not if you don't want me to. I promise" 

Could he ever tell Steve that Yoshe had borrowed money to buy him a ring? It would upset him so much, and it would be wrong since Yoshe had begged him not to say anything.

Jesse put his hands to his head. He couldn't deal with all this emotion. He felt selfish for his own unhappiness, Steve was the one who deserved his sympathy and support. But would it be wrong to play the supportive role when he had been the cause of the anguish in the first place?

__

So not only am I responsible for her death, but I'm a selfish idiot as well. She's dead, and here I am feeling sorry for myself! I don't deserve to live!

The thought had occurred to him earlier in a panicked moment, but after he considered it he realised that there was so much truth in it. He didn't deserve to live! In California people who committed murder were executed, and he really was no better than a murderer.

In a burst of adrenaline he had grabbed his car keys. The metal dug into his flesh as he picked up his coat and threw it around his shoulders. He didn't care about the pain; after all, he deserved it.

All of a sudden, the reality of what he was about to do hit him like a slap on the face. Did he really want to go through with this? Was it really worth it? Was killing himself really the answer? He deliberated this for some time, making movements towards the door and then stopping himself. The despair of his situation was like a knife sticking into his heart, and he truly did not know what to do.

A sudden, sharp knock at the door brought him back down to earth with a thump. _Who would call at 2.00 a.m?_ he asked himself as he fumbled with the door keys. His eyes blurred with a combination of alcohol consumption and exhaustion as he pulled open the door, but the person standing in the doorway made his senses waken up at once. His eyes widened in fear as he saw what they were holding.

To Be Continued…

Hope that was worth the wait! Please Review and tell me what you think!


	11. Regret

Hi everyone. Sorry for the long wait, and I hope everyone had a good Christmas and a Happy New Year! Thanks for all your reviews, and thanks for waiting! See you soon;)

All Disclaimers Apply

Psychotic Break-out

Chapter 11: Regret

Steve Sloan rubbed his teary and bloodshot eyes as he took a tentative sip of some hot and very strong coffee. He swallowed it and felt the liquid flow down his gullet towards his stomach, spreading warmth around his body as it went. He felt calmer all of a sudden. All this heartache - the crying, the shock and the anger – had ebbed slowly away.

Glancing up, he noticed his father some distance away, regarding him with considerable concern. He also noticed that he was at home, in his kitchen – how exactly had he got here? The last thing he consciously remembered was listening to Amanda talking in her soft voice about Yoshe, how she had died.

_Nothing that could have been done…died within a matter of minutes._

Amanda's words drifted back to him as he stared at the coffee in front of him. Then it struck him, the first time he had been thinking clearly since he had heard the devastating news. He realised his huge mistake.

__

Jesse! He thought, _the things I said to him!_ A sickening wave of guilt and self-reproach threatened to overwhelm him. His actions had been unforgivable - even withstanding the anger and grief he had been feeling – to lash out at his best friend, who had tried to save Yoshe's life.

Mark, standing some feet away from his son, immediately noticed a tangible difference in the way Steve was behaving. Maybe it was father's intuition, or maybe it was the fact that Steve looked as if he had just seen something so vile that it made him want to be sick.

"Steve!" Mark exclaimed as he rushed to his son's side. "What is it? What's wrong? Are you sick?"

Steve looked up him, eyes filled with pain and – and was that…_guilt?_

"Dad, the things I said to Jesse, I - " He stopped at the look on his father's face. "You know something don't you Dad?"

"I'm not gonna lie to you son. I could tell you that he was unaffected, but that would be a lie. He was pretty upset" Mark saw Steve's face fall. "But I know he will forgive you, in fact he was never mad at you in the first place! He was mad at himself, I told him it wasn't his fault but he - "

"Didn't believe you?" Steve finished for him. "I suppose what I said didn't exactly help! I have to see him Dad! I need to apologise!" Steve looked at his father almost pleadingly, as if asking for permission.

"Steve do you know what time it is? It's 3.00 am! I don't think you should go over there right now!" Mark wanted more than anything for things to be resolved between Jesse and Steve, but his son needed rest and _he_ needed to be a father and look out for the interests of his son. "Besides, Jesse'll be asleep right now, we can go round first thing in the morning"

"But Dad - "

"First thing in the morning" Mark said firmly. "Now, I think you should get some rest"

Steve got resignedly to his feet. "Okay Dad, I'm going!" He walked over to the set of stairs leading down to his adjoining apartment and paused. "Night Dad" He said softly, before padding downstairs for the night.

"Night son" Mark said to the empty kitchen.

* * * *

Steve woke slowly and lazily, absorbed in a childlike world of warmth and safety. Bathed in glorious sunlight, he stretched his arms out luxuriously and knocked his alarm clock to the floor where it emitted a soft thump upon reaching the carpet floor.

He reached downwards to pick it back up again, but frowned as he read the digital numbers on the screen. The glowing red digits told him that the time was 11.00. _11.00! Why didn't Dad wake me? _

Leaping out of bed he grabbed for his jeans – left in a clumsy heap at the foot of his bed the previous night – and a T-shirt. He threw them on, not caring about how loosely they hung on his lean frame, or how exhausted they made him appear.

"Dad?" Steve called as he raced up the stairs two at a time.

"Ah Steve! You're awake! I was just about to come down and wake you myself" Mark said in what he hoped was a cheerful voice. In reality, he didn't feel cheerful at all, but he was going to do his best to make sure that Steve felt comforted.

"Why didn't you" Steve muttered grumpily, suddenly spotting the table heaving with the weight of breakfast food that was laid upon it.

Mark followed his son's gaze. "I was making, uh, breakfast!" He dropped the act. "Look son, you clearly needed the sleep – I was looking out for your best interests. We'll have some breakfast and then we can go to Jesse's"

"I'm not hungry" Steve said stiffly. Mark could have predicted this answer as easily as he could have predicted that it would be a sunny day in Malibu.

"Have some toast at least" Mark cajoled, and eventually Steve relented – but it didn't stop him from ramming it down his throat as quickly as he could.

"Happy?" Steve asked sarcastically, he was less than pleased with his father, but on reflection it was probably more to do with the anger he had for himself than any he had for his father.

"I suppose" Mark said, sending a regretful glance back towards his cooking.

* * * *

Steve bounded up the hallway towards the door to Jesse's apartment; Mark followed a short distance behind. He was worried that Steve would run himself dry with guilt. Jesse would forgive Steve, Mark had no doubts about that, but Steve apparently did.

Once at the door, Steve hesitated and looked at his father for reassurance who nodded encouragingly, and he eventually plucked up the courage to knock. He took a deep breath and stepped back, ready to face his guilt – and his fear.

But nothing happened. Jesse did not answer the door.

Steve knocked again, this time louder. 

"Maybe he's still asleep" he muttered. _Jesse lying still in his own bed, heart barely beating. Cold. Blue. _

"God Dad! What if it's happened again!" Steve panicked, remembering the last time he had stood outside Jesse's door, wondering why he did not answer. "We have to get in there! Now!"

Mark was shocked at Steve's rapid mood swing. "Steve calm down! Chloe's been gone for months now" But even Mark could not get rid of the sinking feeling in his stomach. He whipped out his mobile phone and rang Community General.

"This is Doctor Sloan, I'm looking for Doctor Travis, is he in the hospital today?" Mark asked urgently, hoping, praying…

"No, Doctor Travis isn't on shift until 6.00 this evening, and he hasn't signed in" The receptionist replied after a few moments.

"Okay, thank you. Oh, and if he does turn up would you tell him that I'm looking for him? Thanks" Mark hung up the phone uneasily. "Let's try the landlady" he suggested after a pause. Steve nodded dumbly, then followed his father down the hallway to the landlady's apartment.

"No, I haven't seen Jesse" she answered after being asked by Mark, "I heard him come in pretty late last night, and I haven't seen or heard him since"

She saw Mark and Steve's faces fall, and then she softened. "I can let you into his apartment if you like, I mean there was that business earlier on with him overdosing. He just works too hard!" she disappeared inside her apartment to retrieve the master key and then led them back up the hallway. 

Steve huffed impatiently as she fumbled with the key, and pushed his way inside when the door was finally opened. Mark thanked the lady outside as Steve went on a mini rampage throughout the small apartment. Jesse was nowhere to be found.

Mark stepped inside the living room as soon as the landlady had returned to her own home. His attention was immediately grabbed by a piece of folded paper lying on the coffee table. He cautiously picked it up, afraid of what it might show. His eyes scanned the two small paragraphs written in Jesse's handwriting and he gave an involuntary gasp.

Steve having heard the noise came rushing back into the living room. His father's face had drained of colour, and his hands shook as he silently held out the paper for Steve to read.

__

Can't go on like this.

How can I?

Life just doesn't seem worth living.

Obviously I don't deserve to live anyway.

Even though I didn't actually kill her, it feels like I did.

Help is not possible for me.

Ending my life is the only option.

Let's hope my friends and family can forgive me.

Please don't try to stop me, by the end of the day I will be gone.

Jesse Travis

Steve's shocked eyes met those of his father's. Without uttering a syllable they raced for the door.

To Be Continued…

Things are not all as they seem! There is a clue in the note!

__


	12. A Cry for Help

Psychotic Break-out

Hey People! So so so sooooooo sorry for the wait. Just had my Higher Prelims, which are basically very scary exams…But hey, I hope you'll forgive me! Thanks for all your kind reviews, and I hope you'll continue to support the story. But anyway, I've made you wait long enough so…

All Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 12: A Cry For Help

__

The previous night…

Jesse's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the pistol in Chloe Marsden's steady hand. It was aimed at his chest.

His eyes travelled upwards until he was looking into those glistening hazel eyes. Before, he'd thought them beautiful, but now they seemed evil and cold. There was a glint inside them that made him uneasy – she had a gun, and she was _not _afraid to use it. Her lips were parted in a satisfied smirk, and she laughed at his shocked silence.

"Why Jesse! Aren't you glad to see me?" The lips opened in a wider smile, "Is that any way to treat your guest"

"Guest" Jesse chuckled nervously, "That's an, uh, interesting way of putting it"

"Well?" Chloe asked, looking at him expectantly. After a few seconds Jesse realised that she meant him to move backwards to let her in. "You can't leave your guest standing in the hallway"

"Uh, of course" Jesse stumbled backwards as she waltzed in confidently. "What do you want?" He asked in a fit of courage.

She gave him a look that pierced through his nerve and he involuntarily stepped backwards. "I wish I could say that it was good to see you, I mean, bar the fact that you had me locked up in a mental institution where I rotted for two years…"

"Chloe you needed help" Jesse tried to reason with her.

Her eyes flashed with anger, and she went on as if she had not heard him. "You left me in Hell" she spat, waving the gun as she gesticulated wildly. "And believe me you are going to know what that feels like"

"I already do!" Jesse shouted back, becoming livid that she could say that it was his fault – he quite forgot that she was the one holding the gun. "I suppose it was you who killed Yoshe!"

"That stupid Japanese bitch that you were cosying up to?" 

"What? She was Steve's fiancée! She had nothing to do with me!"

"Oh" Chloe murmured, then as if trying to justify it once more shouted "Well Steve deserved it! He's _your _friend!" 

"God, this _is_ all my fault" Jesse whispered in a voice that cheered Chloe up in an instant.

"Yes it is, but don't worry! I'm giving you the easy option" she said in a deadly serious voice.

"What do you mean?" Jesse snapped to attention immediately, something in the calmness of her tone chilled him to the bone.

"I'm going to let you die, or I should say, you are going to commit suicide 'I can't go on! I can't live knowing that her death was all my fault' or words to that effect" Chloe became animated as she spoke. Jesse felt sick. "You're going to write your friends a note, and I am going to make sure that you do not leave some kind of message – though I doubt your friends would come to your aid anyway. They must hate you" She savoured. "This is _all_ your fault remember? Look at what _you_ dragged them into! You've ruined their life!"

Jesse lowered his gaze in shame. She was right! It was his fault, he may as well give in…anyway, it wasn't like the idea of suicide hadn't occurred to him, Chloe would just be…helping him along.

He glanced up again. Chloe was watching his ruminations with a gleeful smile on her face. His old anger returned to him now, flowing through his veins like an electric pulse. He would _not _let her get away with murder again! Even if he himself _had _decided to commit suicide, he could not let_ her _use it as a camouflage for murder. He had to avenge Yoshe's death – silly as that sounded, as she wasn't even his fiancée! But he felt responsible for her death, and now he must do something to make amends with the guilt his conscience was grasping onto. But how was he going to get himself out of this situation?

Chloe cleared her throat authoritatively and Jesse's head snapped up. He noticed that she had laid a sheet of paper and a pen of the coffee table. She glared meaningfully at him, intending him to begin writing. He sat down on the couch and slowly picked up the pen, his fingers trembled as he stared at the blank sheet. Suddenly and idea popped into his head like a bolt of lightening. Really it had been Chloe's idea. She said she was going to check for coded messages…all he had to do was write one that she couldn't find. She probably didn't think he had the nerve to do it! _I'll show her!_ He thought, his heart starting to beat faster as his thoughts gained momentum. The idea was stopped abruptly as a problem now occurred to him: How _was_ he going to write a coded message without Chloe picking it up?

Then it hit him: _What if I use the first letter in each line to make a message! _ He would have to be careful though, to make the note sound convincing; It had to sound emotional enough. He stared at the blank page in front of him, trying to think about what he could write. _Damn! Maybe I should've listened in English Class!_ He thought ruefully. It didn't exactly help that Chloe was standing above him with a gun trained on his head…

He decided to let his mind clear. _If I was genuinely writing this note…what would I say? _Then he let the emotions flood into his head, and it felt easier all of a sudden.

**__**

Can't go on like this.

****

How can I?

****

Life just doesn't seem worth living.

****

Obviously I don't deserve to live anyway.

****

Even though I didn't actually kill her, it feels like I did.

****

Help is not possible for me.

****

Ending my life is the only option.

****

Let's hope my friends and family can forgive me.

****

Please don't try to stop me, by the end of the day I will be gone.

Jesse Travis

Chloe snatched from his hands almost before he had even signed his name. Her eyes caressed the page, and he saw the hint of a smile twitch at the corner of her lips. The fact that she was clearly enjoying what he had just written failed to strike Jesse, he was merely relieved that she had not spotted his message! After all, it wasn't exactly _that _difficult to notice, however much he had endeavoured to conceal it. He just hoped that Mark and Steve…Who was he kidding? They weren't going to come to his apartment! Steve had sounded pretty sincere when he had said that Jesse had ruined his life, and Mark? Well, Mark wasn't very likely to come by either.

"Cute, Jesse! Very cute!" Chloe smirked at him as she laid the note back down on the coffee table. "In fact, it's absolutely perfect!" She laughed, "Now Jesse" she grew more serious, calculating now "I'll be needing your car keys"

Jesse gulped as he reached his trembling fingers into the trouser pocket that he had shoved them into when he had heard the knock on the door. His fist closed around the little pieces of metal that would seal his death warrant, and pulled them out slowly. He winced as they made a jangling sound that sliced through the silence, and handed them reluctantly to the woman with the gun.

"Thankyou" She smiled, "Now, would you be so kind as to open the door for me? I have my hands full at the moment"

Jesse fought the urge to be sick as he pulled the door open. It seemed as if there was no going back.

To Be Continued…


	13. Picking Up The Signal

Well, I'm finally back! Sorry for the really long wait, but thanks a lot for the reviews. You've waited long enough so…

All Disclaimers Apply

Psychotic Break-out

Chapter 13: Picking Up The Signal

" Steve!" Mark called as he struggled to keep up with his frantic son who was striding way ahead. His breath came in short, sharp gasps as his lungs fought for air. "Steve! Slow down!" His voice sounded more like a croak as he spluttered.

"Slow down?" Steve called over his shoulder. "Dad! We have to get to Jesse before he does something stupid!" Steve's nerves were ablaze, he had white hot blood coursing through his veins, and his heart was beating so hard he thought it would jump right up his throat and out onto the pavement in front of him. _If Jesse dies it'll be your fault!_ The horrible little voice inside his head that he had been trying to silence for the past few minutes had another go at him. He couldn't let Jesse die, and the not knowing what to do was just about killing him. His father wanted to slow down, but the truth was that if Steve slowed down for one second, he felt as if he would self-destruct.

"Steve! We don't know where he went! We can't solve this by just storming ahead without thinking things over. He could be _anywhere_ and we don't know when he wrote that note." Mark fought to keep control of his shaking voice. "Steve…" He pressed in a more gentle voice as he saw his son's pace falter ever so slightly, "He could already be d – "

"Don't say it Dad!" Steve yelled as he stopped and turned to face Mark. "I need to feel hope, I just – I can't let that thought enter my head. He's alive, he just has to be!" His eyes were like that of a small child, pleading with his father for reassurance.

"I want to feel that way too son! The thought of losing him to suicide is too much to bear! But we have to think about where he might have gone. We may only have one shot at this" Mark's deep blue eyes connected meaningfully with the soft grey of Steve's. There was a glimmer of understanding. "Let's have another look at the note"

* * * *

Steve sat uncomfortably and impatiently in the driver's seat of his car, watching as his father poured over Jesse's note. Steve could almost see the wheels of thought whirring inside his father's brain. He, on the other hand, felt useless. He must have read that note a thousand times, and he hadn't spotted any kind of clue that might tell them where Jesse had gone. He let his head rest against the window as a feeling of hopeless dread settled in the pit of his stomach.

Mark felt Steve's helplessness but he couldn't afford to let it affect him. He needed to leave his mind clear and open to any slight abnormality in the pattern of Jesse's words. Every time he read it, and re-read it, something struck him as odd. The language seemed too contrived to be sincere – not that he doubted that Jesse's mental state might leave him open to the possibility of suicide…but Jesse wasn't normally _this_ open about his emotions. Sure, he was impulsive, but he usually found it very difficult to express how he was feeling deep down. 

Suddenly Mark realised what it was that had been bothering him about the note. Jesse seemed to have stressed the first letter of each line as he had written it. _A simple trick_, he thought, _but it just might be…_

"Steve?" Mark's voice was urgent as he drew Steve out from his contemplative trance. Steve's head lifted immediately and he focussed his attention directly on his father.

"What is it Dad?" He asked, his voice eager.

"I don't think Jesse was acting under his own influences. I noticed that when he wrote this note, he laid particular stress on the beginning of each line he had written. Just look at this!" Mark's voice grew excited as he drew his finger down the line of letters. "C-H-L-O-E H-E-L-P!"

"Chloe!" Steve exclaimed. "Why didn't I think of that before?"

"Steve it wasn't you're fault! We _all _thought she was gone! Even Jesse did! The main thing now is to figure out where she might have taken him!"

Just then Steve's cell phone sliced through the silence and made them both jump.

"Sloan here" Steve barked into the mouthpiece, angry at being interrupted. "Yeah? … What … Are you sure? … Has she said anything about Jesse? … He's missing and we think Chloe may have had something to do with it! … No, we're just outside, we'll be there in five" Steve hung up abruptly. "That was Cheryl!" he told his father excitedly, "They've just discovered where Chloe Marsden's been hiding out! And it's just across the road!"

* * * *

Cheryl met them in the hallway outside of the small apartment in which Chloe Marsden had spent the past few months.

"Steve. Mark." She greeted them with a nod and then proceeded to tell them what she had found out. "A lady, Mrs. Shaw, called us a couple of hours ago claiming that a woman had kept her prisoner for two months. The description matched Chloe's except apparently now she has blonde hair. Apparently she'd been keeping an almost constant vigil at the living room, care to take a guess at what she was looking at, or should I say who?"

"Jesse!" Steve exclaimed. He pulled out Jesse's note. "Take a look at this"

Cheryl's eyes widened and her eyebrows arched in shock as she read. "Wow, this is pretty intense. What makes you think Chloe Marsden has anything to do with this?"

"Just look at the first letter of each line" Steve pointed. Cheryl nodded as she understood the implication of the note. There was a silence between them for a few moments.

"What else did the woman say?" Mark demanded, growing anxious "Did she say anything else about Chloe?" 

"Follow me" Cheryl said as she turned and led them both inside the apartment. A chaotic scene met their eyes: paramedics were examining the lady, who looked to be in her mid-sixties; a forensics team was combing the apartment; and a police officer was trying to interview Mrs. Shaw while she was being examined.

"Okay Jones we'll take over" Cheryl said to the harassed officer.

Steve took a look at the poor widow as she sat huddled on her sofa. Chloe had wrought so much havoc in everyone's life; this poor woman was no exception. His face softened as he took in her frightened eyes and trembling body. God knew what Chloe Marsden had done to her.

The two medics stood up and announced that Mrs. Shaw would have to be treated for shock.

"Can we just have a quick word?" Steve asked urgently, and reluctantly they agreed, seeing the look of immediacy in Steve's eyes.

"Mrs. Shaw? I'm Lieutenant Steve Sloan, this is my partner Detective Cheryl Banks and this is my father Dr. Mark Sloan. Would it be all right if we asked you a few questions about Chloe Marsden?" 

Mrs. Shaw nodded nervously. "Okay"

"Did she ever mention a man named Jesse Travis?"

"Y-yes! Now that you mention it she did! She was talking about him before she left"

"When exactly did she leave?" Mark asked gently.

Mrs. Shaw warmed to him immediately, as he flashed her a glittering smile. "I don't know exactly, but it must have been in the small hours of the morning" Her eyes glanced from Mark to Steve, and then back to Mark again as she watched their expressions.

"Mrs. Shaw it's very important that we find out where she went! Did she say anything?" Steve interrupted impatiently; he was long tired of waiting for answers.

"Steve! Calm down!" Mark exclaimed, shooting Steve an exasperated look, "It's okay Mrs. Shaw, it's just that we are trying to prevent this woman from committing a murder and it would be very helpful if you could give us something – anything – on where she may have gone" Mark continued in his encouraging tone.

Mrs. Shaw screwed up her face in concentration as she struggled to remember. "I did see her look at a map. From where I was sitting I could see very little, but I did notice that she traced her finger along the coast line"

"Thanks Mrs. Shaw you've been extremely helpful! I hope you feel better soon! Let's go Dad!" Steve rushed out of the apartment pulling his father along with him.

"Steve slow down!" Mark shouted as he stumbled after. "There are miles of coastline!"

"Dad don't you see? They've gone to Malibu! We have to go now!"

To Be Continued…


	14. Death Game

Psychotic Break-out

Hey guys! Thanks for all your reviews! You've been so patient, so I'll give you a long one! My Final exams have just finished so hopefully I'll have more time to write! Enjoy!

All Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 14: Death game

Jesse's hands were gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were turning white. Of course, he was more concerned about the woman sitting to the right of him pointing a gun at the side of his head.

It was getting brighter, although the hour was still early. It looked to be the beginning of a beautiful Californian summer day – Jesse's last Californian summer day. The road he was driving down was extremely familiar to him; it was the route he always took when he was driving to Mark's. He couldn't help wondering what exactly Chloe had planned for him, he didn't really wish to ponder it but Chloe was staring at him in silence. He was, therefore, left to his own thoughts.

"It's a beautiful night" Chloe sighed happily. She checked her watch: 4.17 a.m. "I really should say morning huh Jess?"

Jesse decided not to respond to her. He couldn't be bothered spending what could be his last hour on the planet engaging in small talk with his killer.

"Suit yourself" she muttered and then fell silent once more.

Jesse forced himself to keep looking ahead.

Soon enough they hit the Shore road. Jesse could see the ocean, looking dark and cavernous against the golden hew of the slowly rising sun. It really was a breath-taking view, and in spite of himself he smiled as he looked at it. _Perfect surfing conditions!_ He thought.

"Just incredible" Chloe murmured. "Want to go and sit on the beach for a while? This is a sight created by angels!"

Jesse was a little startled by her question. Of course he'd go and sit on the beach if it meant prolonging his life…but what if she meant something different. "Do I, uh, have a choice?" He asked nervously.

"Well, not really, but I was _trying _to create an illusion!" She laughed breezily as her blond locks whipped across her face. "I think we should wait till sun-up, so we can just relax for a while on the beach" Chloe's face was unreadable; either she was just sadistic, or she was just plain mad.

Jesse took the next turnoff leading to an empty parking area just a few minutes walk from the deserted beach. He parked the car reluctantly and waited for Chloe to tell him what to do. His hands were still gripping the steering wheel even though the car was stationary, his veins standing out unnaturally against his deathly pale skin.

Chloe motioned for him to get out of the car, and kept her gun trained on him as he did so. She, herself, got gingerly out of the car stepping backwards onto the stony, uneven ground. Once she was sure of her footing she waltzed round the side of the car and linked her arm with Jesse's. "Let's go for a little stroll" She said enthusiastically.

Jesse was very confused; after all, this woman was meant to be killing him, why was she acting so…so nice? "Chloe, why are you doing this?" He asked before he could stop himself.

Chloe looked at him like a condescending teacher explaining a simple point to a pupil. "Jesse! I'm trying to make this as nice as possible. I've been dreaming of this day for two years…it has to be just right"

When they reached the beach Chloe pointed to a spot not far from the shoreline. "Why don't we sit here. You can tell me what you've been doing for the past two years. What _did_ happen to that blonde girl?"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Some time later, the sun had risen fully and cast a heavenly glow over the golden sands of the beach. The temperature rose several degrees and Jesse found himself wiping his brow as beads of sweat started to form.

"Getting hot isn't it?" Chloe asked quietly. She checked her watch, it was nearing half-past seven. The early morning surfers and joggers had already started to arrive. _Better do it soon. Before anyone sees. _"Okay Jesse. It's getting close to goodbye for you and me"

On hearing these words, Jesse's heart began to beat rapidly. _If I were going to get out of this, now would be the time to do something._ He willed his brain into action.

"We're going to go for a little boat ride. Only you won't be returning to harbour. No one will ever know what happened to you" As she uttered this, Chloe cast her eye towards a little picturesque harbour about two miles from where they stood. The jetty was set deep against the opalescent sky and looked like the jewel of a precious ring. Before, when he had seen it in the distance from Mark's house, it had looked perfect, but now it was the omen of his death.

"Let's take a walk" Chloe said after a long moment. "It's so lovely here, and it can't be more than two miles to the harbour. Take my hand" She grabbed Jesse's wrist and pulled him along gently at an ambling pace. Jesse wasn't going to complain if she wanted to take longer, so he walked dumbly next to her.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

They walked for what seemed like forever, and the sun was beating down uncomfortably on their exposed skin. Although there was a smattering of people about, they encountered nobody directly. Chloe had her gun carefully concealed, so who would suspect the loving couple walking hand-in-hand along the seashore?

If anyone _had_ bothered to look more closely then they would have noticed the demonic smile that Chloe was openly displaying on her face and they would have seen Jesse's increasingly desperate facial expressions. But most of the joggers had somewhere to be, and the surfers had their own agendas.

The harbour was drawing inevitably closer, and Jesse could see several speedboats moored alongside the gangway, bobbing up and down merrily as the tide swelled up and receded. There was a small hut perched on the sand next to the jetty; this was where they would be renting their boat.

As they approached the hut, Chloe stopped and turned to face Jesse, gun poised once more. "Okay, we're going to go in there, you and me, and we're going to rent a boat. I don't want to here a word out of you, or you _and_ the man inside will get a head full of metal, do I make myself clear?"

"A-Absolutely" Jesse managed to choke out. It was bad enough that he was in danger, he didn't want to risk _another_ innocent person's life. His mind flashed back to an image of Yoshe lying dead on the road. _No! That is NOT going to happen again! No one else is going to die because of me_.

"Good" Chloe said in a cheerful tone, with a smug smile which made her look like the cat that had got the cream. She strode forwards tugging Jesse behind her, and then opened the door to the small hut.

There really wasn't much to the little place. It was bare apart from a small table that stood against the far side and a weather chart that was pinned haphazardly to the timber wall. On the table sat a half-filled mug of coffee, and a newspaper spread out in all its various sheets. The small, dumpy man that had been sitting reading the paper and presumably drinking the coffee glanced up as the two of them entered.

"Hi there! What can I do for you?" He called, not even bothering to get up from his wooden chair.

"We're looking to rent a boat" Chloe said pleasantly, although she glanced around the dingy hut with a disgusted look in her eyes.

"Oh!" He smiled at Jesse "You let your girlfriend do all the talking?" He laughed with a knowing look on his sagging face.

Jesse laughed a little too enthusiastically, but said nothing.

"Suit yourself" the man said as he searched around under the numerous sheets of the newspaper. He eventually pulled out a weather-beaten clipboard. "Name?" he asked as if he was an army general barking out orders.

"Just put it under the name Jesse Travis" Chloe said breezily.

"How long do you want it for?"

"Oh a couple of hours, that's all we need" Chloe giggled, and glanced at Jesse with a convincingly loving expression.

The man grinned hungrily at Chloe. "That'll be seventy five dollars. And I want that boat back by eleven"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Chloe bade Jesse to down into the speedboat first and then climbed in her self. She motioned for Jesse to sit and then she took a small coil of rope out of her pocket. "It's nothing personal Jesse, but I'm going to need to keep both hands on the wheel" She began to tie his wrists to a handrail on the side of the boat. Jesse watched silently as his chances of escape slipped away.

When she finished, Chloe sat back to admire her handiwork. For a moment her face was lit with a strange light. Jesse couldn't place the expression in her eyes, but it chilled him and he felt cold even though the fiery sunshine was burning his skin. "We're well on our way Jesse" she sighed contentedly and then started the boat up with a resounding roar.

As they sped away from the harbour, Jesse looked back at Malibu, beautiful in its honeyed veneer. He felt an acute sadness as he realised that it would be the last time he saw it. The last time he would feel the gentle grains of sand between his toes. The last time he would feel that addictive rush of adrenaline as the challenge of riding a particularly huge wave came his way. The last time he would sit on Mark's terrace, comforted in the familial atmosphere of his closest friends…

That was it! He wasn't going to give up the best thing that had ever happened to him! He and Steve could work it out…maybe, but it was definitely worth a try! He was not going resign himself to this fate, even if it did look like he had no hope. _What have I actually got to lose here? If I lose my life trying to escape then at least I'll have given myself a _chance_ to live rather than just letting her kill me!_ He glanced at Chloe, she was more than preoccupied with controlling the boat. He tugged at the ropes binding his wrists. No give. But maybe if he worked on them for a while…

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Eventually Jesse could feel a slight looseness in the ropes, but his hands were raw with rope burns. The Californian coastline was now small in the far distance apart from a low ridge of rock to the left that ran a fair distance out to sea, but Jesse didn't allow himself to lose hope, there was still a wide and rocky ridge to pass before they went out into the open Pacific. He was only going to have one chance at this, so he could _not_ afford to lose hope. Yanking hard at the ropes he managed incredibly to pull himself loose. Maybe it was superhuman strength that came from the desire to live, or maybe it was just luck.

Jesse turned sharply and threw his entire body weight against Chloe's slender frame. The element of surprise went very well for him and his luck continued as Chloe fell against the side of the speedboat. It rocked precariously as it careered onwards without anyone to steer it.

Chloe felt her entire body jerk as the handrail on the side of the boat dug straight into her spine. She gave a yelp, partly out of pain, and partly out of sheer fury at Jesse. This was not how it was supposed to go! They weren't far enough away from the coastline! But if Jesse wanted to go now, then so be it…

As she fell against the side of the boat she kicked out in a reflex action and connected hard with Jesse's shin. He yelled in agony, and his momentary distraction gave her time to search for the gun. She reached quickly for the glove compartment and closed her fist round the cold reassuring metal of the gun. Jesse, who had regained his composure long enough to notice what she was up to, dove for the gun, knocking hard against her arm and knocking against the steering wheel of the boat. It made a sharp left turn. But Chloe already had the gun!

Jesse realised this only too late as he fell against her. It seemed his luck had turned rotten. In no time she had the gun pointing forward into Jesse's chest. With her left hand she clutched the shirt collar at the back of Jesse's neck and pulled him closer.

Time stopped. Jesse looked into these calm, calculating eyes for what would be the last time. He felt her hot breath on his mouth as she brought her face close to his. In slow motion he watched as her finger squeezed the trigger. _This is where my life flashes before my eye!_ Jesse thought, feeling strangely mellow now in the face of this deadly danger "Bye Jesse" Chloe whispered, and kissed him passionately. She felt the gun recoil in her steady fingers as she emptied the chamber.

Jesse felt her hand slowly release him, and then came the pain.

To Be Continued…

****


	15. Rescue Me

Psychotic Break-out

Hey guys! Thanks for all your reviews and thanks for waiting (I know it's been ages) but it's finally the summer holidays, so there _should_ be some quicker updates!! There isn't long to go now though;)

All Disclaimers Apply

Chapter 15: Rescue Me

Jesse felt himself slump backwards onto the floor of the speed boat. The pain he found himself in was excruciating, and the tightness of his chest and lungs was constricting his breathing. As he fell, the boat gave a lurch and veered towards the left.

Chloe sat staring down at him with the air of one that has been released from a dark and oppressive prison. So occupied was she in her moment of emancipation, that she did not notice that the speedboat had changed direction. No. In fact she was mesmerised by the little crimson ruby that was blossoming from Jesse's chest. She did not see the rocky ridge of land that was jutting out from a peninsula of coastline. The ridge that they were now headed towards.

Suddenly a sickening crunch permeated the silence, and Chloe screamed as she saw that the boat was literally tearing its hull on a shallow bed of jagged rocks. She tried to inch forwards to grip the steering wheel and turn off the ignition, but the boat hit a huge boulder jutting out from the left and bounced spectacularly into the air. Chloe teetered on her feet as the boat rose, and was thrown backwards – arms flailing wildly - headfirst over the side of the boat with a final yell.

Jesse - who was being tossed from one side of the boat to the other as it glanced off the rocks - heard Chloe's blood-curdling shriek and felt the petrifying jolts of the speedboat reverberate throughout his body. There was an almighty crash as the boat collided with a fang of rock slanting up from the ground directly in front of it. The speed of the boat had created an immense momentum, causing Jesse to be hurled out of the boat. He barely found the voice to yell as he landed painfully on his leg. He heard - rather than felt - a bone snap, and he blacked out.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Moments later he awoke to a cacophony of agony. He was consumed fully by the weight of this pain for a good few moments before his medical sensibilities began to rise to resurface. He shifted gingerly onto his back to take the pressure off his broken leg and began to ease his shirt up. From what he could see of his gunshot wound (which was little), it was dangerously close to his heart, just a few more centimetres and…But he was lucky that Chloe's aim hadn't been true. It may just have saved his life, but if nobody found him…

Jesse didn't really want to finish that sentence. He managed to remove his shirt and for an instant was surprised at how numb he felt. The pain was beginning to dull, frighteningly – before long he would become faint with blood loss.

He attempted to rip the shirt into a makeshift bandage, but his hands could not find the strength. He fumbled pathetically with the fabric before giving up. All he could do for now was try and apply some pressure to the wound, but the shirt wouldn't last long, not at the rate he was losing blood. He felt the wave of panic rise to the plane of his conscious, but he could _not_ let it through – as long as he stayed calm he could try and tend to his wound and still remain aware of his surroundings.

He let his head fall backward for a minute or so before attempting to sit up. He knew that in the condition he was in, there was no way he should be doing it, but he had to get an idea of where he was. He checked his watch - with difficulty - it was only a little after ten. His only real hope was that the boatman would notice when his boat wasn't returned to him at eleven.

He slowly and agonisingly pushed himself to his feet, before lurching dangerously forward in a dizzy stupor and grabbing onto a nearby boulder for dear life. He began to cough – a dry, hacking cough – which brought a pool of blood with it. Jesse stared at it for a moment, his breathing ragged - it was as he had feared. His pulmonary arteries had been lacerated and the blood from this wound was collecting in his pleurocavity. He didn't have very long now before unconsciousness took him over.

As he clutched desperately to his boulder, Jesse could see a little of the hostile landscape before him. He was on a narrow tongue of land that reached out like a talon from the Californian coastline. He could see Chloe's inert form not far away. He remembered her scream…

He stumbled forward and grabbed onto another rock to support himself. From here he was allowed a better view. Chloe lay in a crumpled heap, her neck bent in a sickening fashion. It didn't take a medical degree to see that it was broken. Her eyes were open, blankly staring forever heavenwards. She was dead. A picture of Yoshe's face flickered suddenly into Jesse's thoughts as he studied the body of his would-be killer. Chloe had finally got what was coming to her, but at what cost? Jesse was surprised at just how detached he felt about Chloe's death. Being a doctor, death was his worst enemy, but Chloe had changed all of that. He'd never thought that someone's death could actually relieve him.

He moved forward, intending to examine Chloe more closely, but his foot caught on protruding rock and he fell forwards, his head glancing off the ground. His eyes rolled upwards as he sank into a faint.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Bert Swanson checked his watch again. _Eleven thirty_. Eleven thirty and the young couple still had not returned with his boat. Raising his hand to his forehead to shield himself from the mid-morning sunshine he perused the huge expanse of ocean before him. Nothing. Not a single vessel.

He turned and walked back down the length of the small harbour towards his hut. He entered and made quickly for the ham-radio that he had connected to each one of his boats. He adjusted the frequency and then made a call out to the boat. Only static could be heard in reply. He adjusted the frequency slightly and then tried again. Still nothing.

He began to worry slightly. No one had ever failed to reply to a radio call, this was highly unusual. Of course, the two of them could have been so involved in each other that they did not hear the radio. They _had_ looked pretty cosy…but still, better to alert someone. Just in case.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Randy Davis scanned the watery horizon from the deck of the ship with his binoculars. There was no other craft on the water as far as he could see. It was an hour after Bert Swanson had called the coast guard to report that a young couple out on one of his boats had not returned. Randy had seen many a person lost or killed out in this ocean and he prayed that this would not be another one of these cases.

He looked to the left, towards the ridge of land that stretched from the Malibu coast. There didn't appear to be anything amiss. He was about to turn and look in the other direction when he saw a flash of white. He called to the captain: "Can you steer a little closer to the ridge, I think there's a boat over there!"

On closer inspection it transpired that there was indeed a boat, and it looked to be in bad shape. Randy and the rest of the crew could not see much of the surrounding area because their boat could not get closer to the ridge, shallow pools and jagged rocks blocked their path. Randy did not like the look of the abandoned speedboat, the prow had been completely mangled as it had ploughed into a wall of rock, and there was no sign of anyone. "I think we're gonna need a helicopter here" he shouted to his colleagues and they nodded their agreement.

"I'll radio HQ" one of them said and hurried off to the bridge.

Randy turned back to the view of the mangled boat. He had a foreboding feeling about this one. Something wasn't right.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

"Steve Look!" Mark Sloan cried excitedly as he spotted Jesse's convertible in a parking lot just off the road they were travelling on. "It's Jesse's car! I'm sure of it!"

Steve Sloan jammed his foot down on the brakes of his car and wrenched the steering wheel round to the right. The tires squealed dramatically as the car wheeled round into the parking lot. Steve parked his own car haphazardly and leapt out, followed closely by his father.

Steve reached the other car first and swept over it with his trained eyes. No sign of anyone in the car. Disappointment clawed at his insides; yet another barrier had been put up to stop him from finding his best friend. The time was now twelve thirty; it seemed a hopeless situation. He looked at his father, almost pleading him to say that he was wrong, that they would definitely find Jesse now, that he would be okay.

Mark, of course, said none of those things. He began methodically to check each part of the empty car. He found nothing of interest in the back, but in the front he was more successful. "Steve look at this!" He pointed to the passenger seat, "There's a long blond hair! It has to be Chloe's!"

"Dad, we know Chloe was with him, what's the big deal?" Steve sighed, shooting an exasperated look at his father.

"But at least now we know for sure. I think you should call for some assistance" Mark turned to look at his son. Steve was clearly upset, and hurting badly. He would not rest until Jesse was found, but it was plain that they would need help.

"Okay Dad" He sighed again and brought out his cell phone. Mark examined the ground around the car while Steve called Cheryl and asked her to get a crime scene team together. When he had finished, Mark called him over again.

"There's two sets of footprints leaving the car, it looks like they took the path to the beach. They can't have gone far, come on!"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jesse pressed his eyes shut tightly as the humming noise grated against the inside of his skull. He couldn't quite work out whether it was because of the throbbing pain in his head, or whether he was actually hearing it. "Go away", he moaned softly. He pushed himself carefully off his stomach and turned onto his back with difficulty. The noise was louder now, and he no longer believed that it was in his head.

It _almost_ sounded like a helicopter. But…it _couldn't_ be! Could it? Jesse opened his eyes and winced in the brightness of the midday sun. He knew it wasn't a good sign, he was hallucinating! But wait! Voices now he could hear!

Suddenly hands touched his face gently, and he opened his eyes again. A dark haired woman was leaning over him with a small torch, which she immediately began to flash into his eyes. Jesse automatically flinched as the harsh light blinded him for a moment. "What's going on?" He mumbled dumbly, and then began to cough. More blood spilled from his lips as his body shook.

"Hey" the woman said calmly, smiling reassuringly at him though she was horrified at his condition, "It's alright, we'll get you to a hospital" Then she stood up and left his field of vision.

"He's lucid, but he's not looking too great. He has a gunshot wound! And what looks like a broken leg. He's lost a lot of blood; we need to lift him ASAP! He doesn't have long" he heard her saying urgently.

"What about the female?" Another voice asked, this time male.

"She's dead" The woman replied, "she'll have to wait for the moment, this man needs urgent medical attention"

"Okay, we'll get them to lower the stretcher"

Moments later Jesse felt himself lifted onto a soft bed, and an oxygen mask was put over his nose and mouth. He sighed as he was wrapped in a thick blanket and strapped in. He was given words of reassurance again, before he felt the slight jolt as the stretcher was lifted into the air. He felt the harsh wind generated by the helicopter blades on his face, then dropped his heavy eyelids slowly and fell deep into unconsciousness.

To Be Continued…


	16. Aftershock

Okay, I tried to update faster so…hopefully it's worth it! Thanks for all your reviews (I can't believe I made the 100 mark!!) I appreciate your support so much;)

All Disclaimers Apply

Psychotic Break-out

Chapter 16: Aftershock

Doctor Faye to ER! Doctor Faye to ER! The well-worn voice of the hospital tannoy system blared indifferently through the halls of Community General Hospital. James Faye's head snapped up instantly from the golf magazine that he had been perusing. Leaping up from the couch in the doctor's lounge he snatched up his lab coat and threw it around his shoulders. It billowed importantly around him as he raced down the corridor to the Emergency Room.

By the time he had reached ER he was calm and business-like. You had to be. If you got too emotionally attached then it could cost somebody their life, and you your job.

He strode towards the gurney that had just been carted through the large doors that dominated the Emergency Room. He was about to issue some orders when he caught sight of the pale, gaunt person lying on the stretcher. He gasped as recognition dawned on his face.

"Page Doctor Bentley immediately"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Amanda Bentley sat behind her immaculate desk in the Pathology Lab, her shiny black hair pulled back into a neat bun and her face screwed up in concentration as she attempted a crossword puzzle in the daily newspaper. She glanced upwards and reached for her half eaten sandwich, and then took a large satisfying bite.

The small clock perched on her desk told her that it was almost half-past one. Why did her lunch break always have to go so quickly? She sighed and put down the newspaper. As she did so her pager began to bleep urgently. Sighing again she laid down her sandwich this time and reached for her phone.

"Doctor Bentley you're needed in ER. Doctor Travis has just been brought in" The voice on the other end of the phone answered.

"What!" Amanda shouted down the phone, "What's his condition?"

"Critical. Gunshot wound to the chest, broken leg and possible internal injuries"

"I'll be right there. Who's taking care of him?"

"Doctor Faye"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Amanda knocked several nurses flying as she flew up to the ER. Not bothering to apologise she kept on going, tears threatening to cascade down her cheeks. If anything happened to Jesse…She didn't want to even imagine…Sure Jesse got on her nerves, but she cared deeply about him. He had so much energy and enthusiasm for life. Not to mention the fact that he was a damn good doctor. Jesse was like - no he _was_ - a member of her close family.

When she reached her destination, there was no sign of Jesse or James Faye. She grabbed a passing nurse. "Where is Doctor Faye?" She demanded, her eyes blazing.

"He's in Trauma One with Doctor Travis" The scared looking nurse stammered, clearly affected by the condition of her friend and colleague. Jesse was a very popular member of the Community General staff. Amanda's features softened momentarily before re-assuming their worried stance.

"Thank you" She called over her shoulder as she rushed forwards and shoved open the door to Trauma One.

Her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of the small, deathlike figure lying on the bed. This was what the once lively, funny, enthusiastic Jesse had been reduced to. A small tear finally escaped as she clapped a hand to her mouth. She watched James and the Trauma nurses swarm about Jesse's body in slow motion, perfectly choreographed. It didn't seem real.

It took her several moments to compose herself adequately enough to ask the right questions and find out Jesse's chances of survival. With great effort she slowed her rapid breaths and marched forward calmly.

"James how's he doing" She asked softly, not wanting to interrupt the concentration of the skilled medic.

"Amanda, I'm not gonna lie to you, Jesse's pulmonary arteries were lacerated when the bullet entered his chest. He's lost a lot of blood, his blood pressure is too low and I'm worried that he has a widened mediastinum" James paused to direct the nurses to insert a saline IV tube.

Suddenly Jesse began to cough. Dry, racking coughs which made his small frame shudder and lurch dangerously. Blood sputtered from his lips and stained the pristine white of the hospital sheets. Amanda watched with the horror of one who must watch their child suffer in agony, as Doctor Faye began to insert a chest tube to ease Jesse's ragged breathing. Then he issued orders that Jesse was to be prepared for radiology, followed by surgery.

One of the nurses went to Amanda and laid a hand on her arm. "Doctor Bentley, it might be wise if you waited outside" Amanda nodded vacantly, not taking her eyes off Jesse as she was propelled gently backwards towards the door.

Once she was back in the corridor it was like she had been brought out of a trance. Her immediate thought was to alert Mark and Steve. She quickly wiped away her brimming tears and cleared her throat before heading towards the nurses' station.

When she had reached the phone she dialled Mark's cell phone number hurriedly, then waited with baited breath for him to answer.

"Hello Mark? Its Amanda" Her voice wavered dangerously as she spoke down the receiver. "It's Jesse! He's in the ER! He's been shot!…I don't know anything about her! Just get down here now Mark! It's n-not looking good…I will" She whispered, her voice having cracked with emotion. Her breath came in gasps as she replaced the receiver, and she stood dazed there for a while before making her way to the waiting area.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

When Mark and Steve reached the shoreline most of the early morning joggers and surfers that had been there when Jesse and Chloe were, were now gone. A few pensioners and young people were scattered further along, but there was nobody else. No Jesse. No Chloe. But Mark hadn't really expected it to be _that_ easy. No. Chloe had something planned.

"See anything Dad?" Steve asked, hoping that his father would pull some magnificent solution from his trouser pocket.

"No son" Mark answered curtly, beginning now to feel the pressure and desperation that his son had felt earlier. Suddenly his cell phone began to ring. He was about to press the "cancel" button, but something held him back – intuition perhaps.

"Hello?" He answered warily. "Amanda what's wrong?" There was immediate urgency in his voice as he uttered this. He was struck by the necessity and overwhelming emotion in her voice. Something had happened.

"He's what? Oh my god…what about Chloe?…we will, just sit tight. Keep an eye on Jess for me" Mark's features were dark as he hung up. He glanced at Steve, who knew without needing to ask that something was very wrong. "Son, we need to get to the hospital immediately"

"What's happened to Jess Dad? Is he…?" Steve hardly dared ask.

"No" Mark answered him, not wanting to include the _not yet_ that was on the tip of his tongue.

Steve felt as if all the panic and guilt that he had been feeling were now converging into one giant tsunami that threatened to overthrow him completely. He put his head in his hands in a pathetic gesture of defeat.

Mark laid a comforting hand on his son's arm, only to have it shrugged off angrily. "Steve!" Mark said forcefully, trying to break through the wall of anger and self-loathing that Steve had created around himself. "Steve! You need to stay strong…for Jesse's sake. I know you've suffered a great deal, but I also know that you can summon the strength to cope with this. Come on Steve!" He took Steve by the shoulders and swung him around so that they were standing eye to eye.

Slowly Steve nodded and Mark could almost see the resolve strengthening within him. "You're right. Jesse needs me. He needs _all_ of us"

Mark smiled grimly at this minor victory, and then added quietly: "We'll need to alert Cheryl and the team that Jesse's been found and Chloe is dead"

To Be Continued…


	17. Hopes and Fears

Hey guys here's the next chapter! Thanks for your reviews and I hope you enjoy!!

All Disclaimers Apply

Psychotic Break-out

Chapter 17: Hopes and Fears

"Amanda?" A gentle, familiar voice roused her out of her stupor. She looked up in a daze and waited for her eyes to focus. Mark Sloan was standing over her, a look of utmost concern on his face; Steve was there too, cowering behind Mark, looking haggard and pale. "Amanda?"

She launched herself upwards and threw herself at her closest friend and colleague, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in the crook of his neck. If Mark was taken aback by this sudden show of emotion, he didn't show it. For their young friend Jesse Travis was currently in a critical state in the Operating Theatre of Community General. He had suffered a serious bullet wound and a broken leg at the hands of murderess Chloe Marsden, who thankfully had been found dead in the same boating wreckage that Jesse had been pulled from.

"It's okay" he whispered comfortingly in her ear. "It's okay" He enveloped her in a tight bear hug, savouring the little solace that it brought him.

Steve watched the two of them as if he were a passer-by looking through a window. He just didn't feel as though he was part of it all. Like it was a movie, or a book. In all his years of working for the LAPD, he didn't think he had _ever_ faced such an influx of emotional paralyses. First his fiancée had been murdered, and now his best friend was dying. The worst thing was that all of this could have been prevented. _He_ could have prevented it. And yet he found he could not shed a single tear. He could not display his emotions so blatantly as Mark and Amanda, and this made him feel even guiltier.

Amanda pulled gently away from Mark and wiped her eyes roughly. "He's in surgery. The bullet tore Jesse's pulmonary arteries, and it punctured one of his lungs. James Faye is trying to repair the damage but he's made it clear that Jesse hasn't got much hope, and given his injuries that's a fair assessment. How did this happen?" She asked tentatively raising her head to meet Mark's eyes.

He stared back, with difficulty, wanting to avert his normally clear blue eyes - now clouded with shame and grief. "Amanda, I- we-." He sighed and then slowly lowered himself down onto a chair, gently tugging Amanda down next to him. Steve remained standing. Gradually Mark began to recount the tale, or at least what _they_ knew of the tale. How they had found Jesse's "suicide" note, how the lady across the road had told them that Chloe was behind his disappearance, how they had found Jesse's car at the beach…

"God, if I'd just got there earlier!" Mark murmured. "I could've stopped this" He put his head in his hands, his first real sign of weakness.

"Mark…" Amanda began, but Steve was the one to interrupt.

"What was all that you said to me about being strong for Jesse? Or was that all a load of crap just to make me feel better about myself? He doesn't _just_ need me Dad; he needs you too! If I can be strong about this, you can too" Steve sat down on the other side of his father and embraced him solidly.

"You're right of course Steve" Mark smiled bravely after they had pulled apart. "I guess sometimes I can be a little hard on myself"

"There's only one person to blame for this" Amanda interjected. "And that's Chloe Marsden"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The three of them stayed in that little waiting room for many long hours. By the time James Faye arrived in the room Amanda was fast asleep and the place was littered with empty coffee cups. Mark was slumped in his uncomfortable plastic chair with is chin resting on one elbow, staring into space. Steve was pacing the room, his head bent downward, unable to relax or allow himself to rest.

Mark looked up sharply as the exhausted doctor entered the room. Steve stopped his pacing and rushed forward towards him. "What's going on? How is he?" He asked rapidly, the questions spilling out so quickly that he barely had time to articulate them properly. Seeing the fatigued look James's face at this sudden bombardment, Mark stepped in.

"Steve calm down, give him a chance to talk" Both looked now at Doctor Faye with expressions which conveyed both hope and fear.

"He's stable" James said, after a moment's pause. A smile formed on his face. Mark exhaled the unconscious breath he had been holding and Steve turned away quickly to avoid the tears of relief that threatened to spill.

Mark went immediately to Amanda, who still lay oblivious to this fortunate turn of events, and roused her gently from her slumber. "Mark, what is it? What's wrong? Is he…?" She gasped, her mind instantly jumping to horrifying conclusions.

"No honey, James is here. Jesse's condition is stable" Mark couldn't stop himself mirroring James and breaking into a grin.

"Oh Thank God" Amanda cried, getting slowly up from her chair. She went to James and embraced him – blood covered scrubs and all.

James waited for Amanda to compose herself before continuing the news he had come to convey. "He's not out of the woods yet. We managed to repair the damaged arteries, we've removed the bullet, we've drained the blood that was trapped in his lungs and we've given him a blood transfusion to replace what he lost. But only time will tell if he will wake up or -."

"Lapse into a coma if his body goes into shock, or go into Cardiac Arrest" Mark injected, his brows furrowed as he pondered the situation.

"Precisely" James confirmed, looking grave once more. He raised a tired hand to brush the gathering beads of sweat from his forehead. He had laboured over Jesse for the best part of four hours, and even then he could not guarantee that Jesse would pull through. Sometimes being a doctor was difficult. There were the times when you saved lives and you felt amazing, and then there were the times when things didn't work out; the patient you were trying to save didn't make it. This was the first time he'd operated on someone close to him, his boss for Christ sake! He'd found it tougher to cope with than he'd first imagined he would.

"Can we see him?" Steve asked in a small voice, afraid that it might crack with emotion.

"Sure, but I'm sure I don't need to stress further to you the fact that he really needs to rest at the moment"

"Of course" Mark answered, his eyes unreadable for a moment before filling with warmth. "And James, thank you for everything you've done for Jesse"

"Just doing my job" James replied, his cheeks reddening slightly. "Oh, and Mark? I was supposed to tell you that a woman – Chloe Marsden – was admitted to the path lab"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jesse looked very small and fragile lying in his bed surrounded by various beeping and whirring machines – machines which were keeping him alive. His porcelain skin looked grey compared to the brilliant white of the hospital sheets he was swathed in. An oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth, giving him the vital air that his tortured lungs craved. His broken leg had been set in a cast and was now raised above him on a pulley, and a huge bandage protected his chest wound.

He was lying so still that he could have been made of stone. When Amanda saw him, fresh tears brimmed in her eyes. Mark looked sadly down at his young friend and protégé. Steve stood in the doorway almost fearing to come in, as if just by being in the room he would somehow bring danger to his friend.

__

I wanted to ask if you were happy! Happy that you ruined my one chance of happiness!

Steve, you – you got it all wrong! I tried to save her I –

Oh spare me your excuses Jesse! This is entirely your fault! You took away the love of my life! I will never forgive you for this! If I could, I'd arrest you for culpable homicide, but the Captain says it wasn't your fault! I heard you hit your head! I hope it hurt nearly as much as you hurt me Jesse!

Steve hung his head in shame as he looked at his best friend. How he _ever_ could have said any of those things…And now Jesse might not ever wake up. Steve may never have the chance to say he was sorry!

Mark wrapped an arm around Amanda and glanced around for his son. Seeing that he was yet to enter, he called quietly "Steve? Come on son, there's no use in you standing out there. We need your support, Jesse needs your support"

"Dad I-" Steve faltered, "I can't bare to see him like this" he mumbled quickly. Desperate to escape the atmosphere of guilt and anxiety he spun round and marched off down the corridor.

Mark stared helplessly after him.

"Mark, you go after him. I'll be okay" Amanda whispered, gently shaking Mark as if to waken him.

"I have a pretty good idea where he's gone" Mark responded before squeezing Amanda's hand and leaving the room.

Amanda fetched herself a chair and sat down at Jesse's bedside. She slowly reached out and held his limp hand. Stroking it gently she looked at his gaunt face sadly. "Jesse, you're going to make it through this. You _have_ to make it through this! Because if you don't…I'll lose one of my best friends, Steve'll lose his little brother, and Mark…Mark will lose a son. Please Jesse! Don't leave us" She finished in a whisper, looking at his face for any signs of life. But he remained as still as ever.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Mark opened the door to the pathology laboratory. He knew what he expected to find, and sure enough Steve was there. He was opening each of the metallic drawers one by one, evidently looking for something.

"What are you going to do when you find her?" Mark's voice penetrated the silence.

Steve didn't stop in his search, but instead carried on as if Mark had not interrupted him. "I don't know. I was thinking maybe I'd use her as a punch bag" Steve answered, unsure even himself whether he was serious or not.

"I don't think anyone here would blame you, but honestly Steve! What would it achieve? Except a charge for defacing a corpse. You have to find some other way to let go, to let your feelings out"

"Dad, she killed Yoshe! She practically killed Jesse! Who knows if he'll even survive?" Steve suddenly felt a release of his emotions. All of the things he'd been bottling up since Yoshe's death seemed to come out in a huge torrent of pent up grief. He began to sob uncontrollably, putting his face in his hands and sinking to the floor.

Mark was instantly at his son's side. Wrapping his arms around his son he pulled him into a comforting embrace. It was as though Steve was a small child again. Memories of Catherine floated through Mark's mind; he remembered the empty feeling he'd felt in his heart when she had gone. He'd had to comfort Steve then as a father. But now Steve was in the position that Mark had occupied then, having just lost the love of his life. Mark hadn't had his father then, but he was going to make sure Steve got all the support Mark could give him.

Mark realised just how much Steve had been keeping these emotions locked up inside him. He suddenly felt so insensitive. His mind had been on Jesse the whole time; he hadn't even spared a thought for his bereaved son. His bereaved son who had cast everything aside to look for his best friend. Mark feared the worst for his son if Jesse didn't make it. He didn't know if Steve could take another blow.

The two of them stayed like that for a long while. Eventually Mark suggested that they go home, Steve needed to rest and it was unlikely that Jesse would wake up that night. He had expected to meet with immediate protest, but Steve did not put up a fight, showing just how defeated he was.

"You head back to the car son, I'll go and get Amanda – she and the boys can stay with us tonight"

To Be Continued…


	18. Your Eyes Open

Hey guys, just found out that I passed all my exams!! Anyway, thanks for all your encouraging reviews and support, they've really helped this story keep going. So we're finally at the end…hope you enjoyed it! I'm sure I'll be back soon with another one, see ya:)

All Disclaimers Apply

Psychotic Break-out

Chapter 18: Your Eyes Open

Steve Sloan woke very early the next morning. He felt weak after his emotional outpourings the previous night, but he felt a strange freedom brought forth by the release of all that he had been bottling up. He felt ready to confront his fears about Jesse.

He dressed quickly, pulling on a battered pair of jeans and a crumpled shirt, and grabbed a piece of toast before leaving the beach house silently and heading to Community General. Neither Mark nor Amanda had surfaced yet. Steve was glad; he needed to do this alone.

When he arrived at the door to Jesse's room, Steve found again that he could not enter. The door was open, yet he felt that there was a blockade between him and Jesse: an expanse of pain that neither of them seemed to be able to cross.

A passing nurse noticed him standing there like a lost child. "Sir? It's okay, you can go in" She told him kindly, mistaking his reasons for hesitating.

"No it's- " Steve tried to explain but the nurse was guiding him gently into the room.

"Are you a relative of Doctor Travis?" She asked as she pulled a chair over for him to sit on.

"Just a…a friend, but he's more like a brother I guess" Steve found himself answering, feeling strangely comfortable with this stranger.

"Yeah, he has that effect on people. A really nice guy" The woman murmured, looking sadly down at her colleague. "If anyone deserves something like this, he'd be the last person…but Doctor Faye seems to think he's showing signs of waking soon. His brain activity has shown an increase, and his vitals are looking more normal. If you talk to him I'm sure that'll help too" She smiled at him.

__

She has no idea, Steve thought inwardly, _she has no idea that I caused this!_ But he just forced a smile and plonked himself down on the seat.

"Well, I'll leave you to it" She said softly before backing slowly out of the room and closing the door delicately.

"Jess? It's me Steve" Steve spoke into the silence. He'd come this far, he might as well just get his feelings off his chest. "I guess I – " He stopped suddenly. He was _sure_ he'd just seen Jesse's eyes flicker.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jesse Travis became aware of a presence next to him. That much he could determine. He stared into the blackness…wait a second! His eyes were closed! All he had to do was open them and…but that proved to be a more difficult task than he had imagined. His eyelids felt like lead, and they didn't want to be opened. But he was determined to waken up, he didn't want to sleep anymore.

__

Jesse! Are you there? A voice called out to him. It seemed to come from a million miles away. It didn't even sound real; he'd had so many dreams…

But now he felt his senses return to him, he was waking up! He wrenched his eyelids open and took a huge gasp of air. He panicked when he felt the mask around his mouth and he reached his hand up to pull it off. Suddenly he felt strong fingers around his wrist, pulling his hand slowly back down onto the bed.

"Jess it's okay!" That voice again! Only this time he knew for sure who it was.

Leaning over him, speaking to him, was Steve Sloan. A person Jesse had never expected to see again, let alone speak to, yet there he was! Right in front of his eyes! Jesse opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His throat was very dry and he began to cough, which made his chest tighten painfully.

"No, no! Jesse don't talk! Calm down, I'm going to get a nurse" Steve moved away from him towards the door, opened it and called out. Within moments the same nurse that Steve had been speaking to appeared. As soon as she saw that Jesse was awake she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Good to see you awake Jesse" she couldn't help but smile at this positive turn of events. "I'll fetch Doctor Faye" she said, turning to Steve, "I knew you could wake him" she added. Steve beamed back at her, before returning to his position at Jesse's bedside.

It seemed like hours, but in fact it was a only matter of minutes, before James Faye arrived to examine his patient. He swooped down on Jesse and began to check his vital signs. Steve watched with baited breath, terrified that some new evil would be discovered, but James had a relieved smile on his face when he had finished. He removed Jesse's oxygen mask and motioned for the nurse to give the young doctor a drink of water.

Jesse gladly took the glass offered to him, his throat being as dry as the Sahara Desert in mid-summer. The cool liquid seemed to spread a feeling of freshness and well being throughout his body. _Of course_, he thought, _I'm probably doped up with morphine. Otherwise I'd be in agony about now!_

"James" croaked Jesse, even though his voice was considerably stronger than before. "Thanks. That bullet probably did a heck of a lot of damage huh?" Steve was surprised at his jaunty tone; he had expected Jesse to be more than a little emotional.

"Oh, just torn pulmonaries and a punctured lung Jess! Nothing serious!" James laughed, matching his friend's carefree tone, but his eyes betrayed the worry that he had held for his colleague. He ducked his head for a moment, before adding: "Seriously Jess, we were all worried about you for a moment there, and we're all glad you've pulled though"

Jesse held out his hand, and received a firm handshake in return. He glanced at Steve, who was watching silently. "See ya later James, and really, thanks for all you've done for me" He said sincerely, his eyes reflecting the deep gratitude he felt towards him. When Chloe had shot him, he had truly believed that he'd come to the end of the road; but he was alive and safe, and it overwhelmed his exhausted brain.

He wasn't really sure he wanted James to leave, for that would mean that he and Steve would be left alone, but at the same time he knew there was a need for them to sort things out. Jesse could hardly forget Steve's harsh words even though they had been deserved. He wasn't sure he wanted to re-open this emotional wound. James smiled in farewell and then exited the room. Jesse fixed his gaze upon the retreating form of the young doctor, hardly daring to look at Steve.

"Jesse…" Steve started to speak, but faltered as he realised that he did not know where to begin. "I thought we were gonna lose you there!" he opted for the light-hearted course of action. Jesse responded by staring at his bedcovers.

"Yeah I know, it's not really a joking matter, although you didn't seem to have a problem with it earlier on!" Steve continued, this time earning a small smile from Jesse. "Look Jesse, about Yoshe, about what I said – "

"Steve, you don't have to say it okay? You were emotional, I mean, you'd just lost your fiancée…anyone else would have done the same" Jesse looked up at him for the first time, his eyes an oceanic blue.

"_You_ wouldn't have" Steve answered genuinely, and this time it was he who looked away, ashamed. "All the time you've been like a brother to me and I-"

"Steve listen, you're talking to a doctor here! People do strange things when they've had a severe emotional trauma. I'm just glad you forgave me" he finished in a small, vulnerable voice.

"Forgave - ? Jess, come on! You know I don't hold anything against you, I never would. I was so scared when I thought you were going to kill yourself, and even more scared when I knew Chloe was with you"

"Not half as scared as _I_ was when I knew Chloe was with me!" Jesse laughed, although it was a hollow mirthless laugh.

Steve looked pained for a moment. "I'm…sorry I wasn't there for you" he blurted, managing finally to reveal the bane of his anguish and guilt.

Jesse looked horrified at his friend, as if this concept could not have been further from his mind. "Steve, there was nothing you could do! We _all_ thought she was gone! You could never have second guessed that!"

"Maybe not, but I should never have said those things. I was terrified that you would go before I had the chance to set things straight, to apologise for what I said" Steve's pallid face looked tired and drained. Jesse couldn't bear to see his friend beating himself up so much. Where was the _old_ Steve?

"Hey Steve you're getting just a little bit too emotional for me right now! I mean, I have just come out of a coma here!" Jesse tried to infuse some joviality into the situation.

"Be serious Jesse!" Steve couldn't help himself from smiling despite his disordered emotions. "You could have died! I didn't want to lose my little bro.' " Steve ruffled Jesse's already tousled locks. Jesse's face showed an expression of deepest annoyance as he tried to bat Steve's hands away.

"Hey! I repeat, just come out of a coma!" But he couldn't keep a straight face and ended up chuckling along with Steve. He stopped suddenly when he began to cough and wheeze.

Steve's face contorted in concern: "Jess are you okay? You want to me get James back?"

Jesse stopped coughing and started to take some deep breaths, when he had calmed down he replied: "No Steve, it's okay. It'll take my lungs a little while to recover from the trauma, and they do say that laughter is the best medicine…"

"Okay, but you'd better get some rest now. I'll call Dad and Amanda to tell them you're awake. They'll probably want to come and visit" Steve said, getting up from his chair. "No hard feelings Jess?" he asked as an after-thought.

"Never" Jesse answered sleepily, but with a hint of his old rigour and enthusiasm. He was on the mend.

Epilogue to follow…


	19. Epilogue

Psychotic Break-out

Epilogue

The warm summer air failed to melt the freezing chill that Jesse Travis felt in his bones. Just recently having left hospital after a near-fatal gunshot wound and a broken leg, he should have been happy. He had recovered with no lasting scars or wounds, none that were physical anyway. He'd survived when neither he nor his friends had thought he would, this should have been a cause for celebration.

He sat on a plastic chair - crutches tucked under his right arm – next to his best friend Steve Sloan. Mark was also there, Amanda too. The sun cast an ethereal glow upon the luscious grass and the statuesque trees. It was a beautiful day in terms of weather, and Jesse was sure that many people all over Los Angeles were enjoying it. Perhaps going for a surf, a jog, skating, walking, maybe even playing a little baseball or football. But Jesse Travis was hating every minute of this day, and he knew that Steve was too.

He glanced down at his black suit, lamenting at the amount of times he had to wear it. The priest standing by the coffin was wearing his typically ceremonial ecclesiastical garb. In his right hand he held a Bible, and his left was making fluid sweeping gestures as he read allowed a passage from the Holy book. Jesse heard none of it. He was too busy with the concern he was feeling for his friend and too occupied by the images of Yoshe's face that kept etching themselves in front of his eyes.

He was also very much occupied with battling the unmarked scars of his ordeal. The mental injury that had been wrought, the emotional wounds that had been inflicted. Not deadly, but very damaging nonetheless. So Chloe Marsden was dead. He had nothing to fear anymore, but it didn't change the havoc she had created, it didn't bring back to life the people she had murdered, didn't mend the lives she had ruined.

The priest's sermon was drawing to a close, and he invited the melancholy crowd to be upright. Steve stood quickly and then bent down to help his injured friend up from his seat. Once standing, they bowed their heads as a prayer was uttered and then they watched mournfully as the mahogany coffin was lowered.

Steve stepped forward, head bent low, and picked up a small handful of earth. He stood at the rim of the hole and slowly, poignantly let the earth trickle through his loosely clenched fingers. The crowd – made up of a mixture of Japanese and American – held their breath, seemingly entranced by the falling soil until the last grain fell and Steve stepped backwards, hand still outstretched as if he too was in a trance. The he let it fall limply at his side. He stared sombrely down at the wooden casket which held the love of his life. Then he pulled off his ring – his engagement ring – and stared intensely at it, saying a farewell before letting it drop down onto the little pile of earth. The crowd mournfully watched this moving scene, but none were more aggrieved than Jesse Travis.

Steve now turned round and went straight into his father's outstretched arms. A single tear forged a path down his bronzed cheek as he buried his head into Mark Sloan's shoulder. Jesse knew that he had been absolved of all guilt, but seeing his friend like this he felt a renewal of all the shame that he had felt before. Chloe had come after him, and had not cared who she hurt on her way. Jesse didn't think that that sense of sole responsibility would ever truly disappear, but he hoped it would lessen.

Steve, now having broken away from his father was making his way slowly towards Jesse. Upon reaching him he chanced a brave smile, Jesse returned the gesture and received a friendly pat on the shoulder as Steve moved past him towards his car. As Jesse watched him go he sensed a different presence at his shoulder.

"He _will_ get over this Jesse" Mark said before Jesse even had time to see who it was. "It'll just take time"

"I know" He replied, not sure whether he really believed it.

"What about you?" This time it was Amanda, having appeared at his other shoulder.

"Oh, you know me! I'm fine" He tried to laugh it off.

"Jesse!" Amanda scolded gently, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to bottle things up"

"Okay maybe I'm not so fine, but Steve needs me to be strong"

Mark gazed down at Jesse with deep admiration. Here was a man, who looked small and weak, but held great inner strength. After everything he had been through, the terrible ordeal he'd suffered, he was still able to brush his own hurts aside to aid his friend when he was needed. It never ceased to amaze him what the young doctor was capable of, and that included surviving the deadly injuries that Chloe had given him. Indeed, Mark looked upon this man as a second son, and just because Steve was suffering he could not ignore Jesse's suffering.

" Jesse, Steve isn't the only one who needs support. We're here for you if you need us" Mark asserted.

Jesse looked pensive for a moment before forcing a smile at his mentor. "Thanks Mark" He replied softly, and allowed his friends to help him back to their car. Jesse knew that they really were trying to help, but the harrowing experience that he had been through made him feel isolated, like there was a huge gulf between him and his friends. But it was over. It was time to draw a line underneath it and move on. And his friends were just the people to help him do it.

The End.

Thanks for reading!!


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